


The Honored Guest

by LME



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Humor, Implied Sexual Content, Lust, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-17
Updated: 2018-09-18
Packaged: 2018-11-01 16:08:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 71
Words: 236,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10925322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LME/pseuds/LME
Summary: Ten-year-old Arya Stark has become lost in the woods following the awful "Joffrey incident" at the Trident on the way to King's Landing with her father, Sansa, the Lannisters, and King Robert Baratheon.  She wanders into the camp of Aegon VI Targaryen and his Hand, Jon Connington, who have invaded Westeros with the intention of retaking the Iron Throne.   Connington thinks that Arya could be a valuable hostage, but he has no idea what mischief Arya can cause.





	1. Guest or Pest?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [madaboutasoiaf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/madaboutasoiaf/gifts).



> Dear readers – I have professed to be a devoted follower of Gendrya, however recently I was seduced by a pair of excellent Arya/Aegon treatments, specifically from the works of “madaboutasoiaf”. Last week I found a collection of “drabbles” by this author that included an interesting short response to the prompt: “a kid Arya following Nymeria somewhere and getting caught in the enemy camp becoming the most annoying hostage to ever exist and giving Connington grey hairs”. This story was so funny that I just had to write a sequel. I hope you like it. Here is the link to the source. I urge you to read it before my story.
> 
> “Drabbles” by madaboutasoiaf – Chapter 11 “The Hostage”
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/1125691/chapters/4514268

Connington was right. The girl caused chaos in the camp. She was everywhere at once and became an instant favorite. Since Duck had been appointed to look after her, he soon became infatuated with her constant chattering and her direwolf, and referred to her as 'the wolf girl' as she requested. Arya even persuaded Duck to spar with her, waving the little wooden practice sword she wore at her belt, and he had been surprised at how quickly she took to swordplay. Aegon was also entranced by her energy and her direwolf, and spent much time with her. _Far too much time_ , Connington thought.

It was obvious that her father had allowed her to consort frequently with his bannermen, because she was as foulmouthed as a foot soldier, and told bawdy stories that could make the oldest campaigner blush. Jon wondered if she really understood the tales she recounted, but she seemed to possess a natural earthiness that belied her age.  


She was a bad influence on Aegon – his language became coarser, but the men seemed to approve of him more. She refused to take 'lady lessons' with Lemore, but insisted on attending Haldon with Aegon. This proved to be beneficial because Arya had an insatiable interest in military history and was an adept pupil, forcing Aegon to work harder, for he did not want to be shown up by a girl.

Haldon told Jon that Arya was clever - she beat most challengers at cyvasse. “She has a head for strategy and tactics,” he offered, adding, “She is skilled at sums, also.” Arya had observed their food stores and calculated how long reserves would last based on the size of the army, and when they would need to resupply. She told Haldon that her maester at Winterfell had assigned her such tasks to keep her busy and out of trouble, since her talent was beyond her older brothers’ lessons.

Connington was intrigued, looked closely at his disheveled little ‘ward’, sweaty and dirty from constant activity, her wild brown hair coming loose from the braid that Lemore fussed with, and realized that she would make a better squire than some of the lazy lordlings moping around the camp.

Arya seemed to have adopted Connington as a father figure, and often dropped in on him unannounced. No matter how brusque he was to her, she took no offense and shrugged off his rudeness, asking questions constantly. _I hope she wore Lord Stark out_ , he thought. Jon realized that her presence might have a major benefit, because one day she told him that Aegon was a much better prince than ‘that turd, Joffrey’, and she would inform Father of this when she saw him again. Arya’s obvious hate for King Robert and anything Lannister would make a Targaryen proud. He chuckled to himself that if her influence over her father was as effective as it seemed to be with the other men, mayhaps he could be persuaded to turn. _Strange_ , he mused, _she hasn’t even flowered, yet grown men enjoy her company_.

One day a representative of the Iron Bank of Braavos came to the camp, intent on discussing finances, and Connington, realizing that Arya was a valuable asset, instructed Lemore to make her presentable for dinner with the emissary. Getting Arya into a dress proved to be the biggest battle in Westeros. Aegon solved the problem by promising Arya that if she acted like a lady during the visit, he would take her riding. Arya had told him that she was excellent on horseback, and missed riding. Arya allowed Lemore to put her in a flowery-smelling bath, dress her in an attractive gown appropriate for her age, and even let Lemore braid her hair up in a Southern fashion. 

When Arya entered the dining tent with a defiant look on her face, Aegon and Duck stared at her. Aegon blurted out, “You clean up nicely,” to which Arya scowled, “Stupid prince.” She behaved during the dinner, displayed manners that would have made her old septa proud, and the banker was suitably impressed and charmed. He japed with her and listened intently as she described life in the North. Jon was relieved that she did not use any foul language or relate any ribald tales. He noticed that Aegon beamed like a proud father, thinking that _he_ had tamed the wolf girl, and Duck, standing at attention behind the prince, had a broad smile on his face. Connington shook his head, thinking, _I’m losing control of this situation_!

As promised, the next day Aegon took her riding, with plenty of guards in case of an ambush. First they cantered, then she insisted on galloping, and finally she challenged the host to a competition of leaping over fallen trees. She easily outpaced most of the company and finally cleared a large tree that even caused Aegon’s horse to balk. Connington observed the party as they returned to camp, and Arya drew his attention. Her large grey eyes were wide and shining with delight, her long brown hair was loose and wild, and her smile was broad and infectious. He suffered a shock as he recalled a similar sight at that accursed Harrenhal tourney so long ago. This time he did put his head in his hands, thinking, _It is Lyanna Stark returned from the dead to ruin my life_! He wondered if he would rue the day that Arya wandered into his camp.


	2. Correspondence

Meanwhile, back at the audience hall of Castle Darry:  


Lord Eddard Stark observed the scene before him with contempt. Robert was drunk and arguing with Cersei, who continued to scream at him. Joffrey was cursing and whimpering and still trying to get sympathy for his wounded arm. Sansa was trying to console Joffrey, while his response was to insult her and pull away. Joffrey had accused Arya of attacking him with her direwolf, knocking him down with a stick, snatching his precious sword, and throwing it in the river. Sansa did not help at all – her recollections of the incident were incoherent and she burst into tears when pressed. All Lord Stark knew was that Arya had been missing for three days now, and no one could find her. Several search parties, including Stark bannermen, had gone looking for her, and Ned was afraid that if Lannister soldiers found her first, she might not be returned alive. He was exhausted from searching, himself. _How can such a small girl cause so much trouble?_ he wondered. He was not surprised, though, even back at Winterfell, Arya had a knack for mischief. He sighed, _I hope we survive this._ As much as he loved Robert, he had not wanted to leave Winterfell, and now the Queen was calling for Arya’s head on a spike as soon as she was found. He had no use for this nonsense. He wished that they had never left home.

Ned didn’t know what to think of the message from Jon Connington as he gripped the parchment in his hand, originally intending to show it to the King. _Greetings, Lord Stark,_ it read, _You will be relieved to learn that your wayward daughter, and her pet wolf (you are a brave man to allow your children to have wolves as companions!) were fortunate enough to find our camp before encountering any tragedy in the forest. Lady Arya is safe and unharmed and has become our honored guest. Perhaps we can discuss arrangements to return her to her family. Lord Jon Connington, Hand to King Aegon Targaryen, Sixth of His Name._

Ned mused, _‘honored guest’. That means that she is considered to be a hostage and Connington will expect to have Targaryen sympathizers exchanged for her release._ He studied the pandemonium in the hall again. Robert was too drunk to think coherently and Cersei was out of control with anger. Jamie Lannister and The Hound were out leading search parties, and there was murder in their eyes when they left. His eyes narrowed, and he thought, _I don’t trust these Lannisters, mayhaps Arya would be safer if she stayed in the Targaryen camp for a while._ He allowed himself a small smile, _Connington has no idea what a challenge she can be. He may be eager to return her in a few more days._

House Darry had supported Rhaegar Targaryen, and the three older brothers of the present lord had died at the Trident. Lord Raymun Darry kept his own counsel, but he had no love for King Robert. Castle Darry was small, and felt even more cramped with Lannisters, Stark, and Darry soldiers eying each other with hostility. _This cannot continue, or blood will be shed_ , Ned thought, _we must continue on to King’s Landing._ He changed his mind about showing the message to the King, and returned to his quarters, considering his reply to Lord Connington. 

In the Targaryen camp:

Lord Stark’s response:

 _Lord Connington – I am thankful that Lady Arya has not come to harm, and grateful that you have informed me so promptly. I trust that you will treat her with the respect due to one of her station. King Robert is presently indisposed, and I will discuss with him the details of returning Arya to her family when he is well. I will respond with our recommendations as soon as possible. Please inform Arya that we are concerned about her and ask that she be brave and patient. In the meantime I suggest that you do not try to put Arya in a dress or force her to do needlework. She is unlike typical girls of her age, and will only cause trouble if you treat her as one. As strange as this may seem, if you handle her like a lad, she will be more compliant. Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Hand to the King Robert Baratheon_

Lord Connington viewed the parchment with wry amusement. _So Eddard Stark does not make haste to recover his troublesome daughter. And he does not tell me anything I have not already learned_. He called for Arya to be brought to his tent. When Arya arrived, Jon saw the mud that spotted her breeches and boots, but it was obvious that Lemore had hurriedly cleaned her face and rebraided her hair. She looked worried at first, and Jon told her, “Lady Arya, I have received a letter from your father. He regrets that he cannot arrange to have you returned to him immediately. He counsels you to be patient and brave.”

Arya actually looked relieved. “Good,” she replied, “I like it better here.” She started chattering rapidly, “Septa Lemore is nicer than Septa Mordane, who always tried to get me to wear dresses and practice needlework. She didn’t even want me to take lessons with my brothers. Duck is teaching me swordplay and he said that I learn quickly. Haldon is a good maester and does not fuss about teaching a girl. My sister and her friend Jeyne were always mean to me and called me ‘Arya horseface’. Queen Cersei is a bad-tempered bitch who always gave me dirty looks, Prince Joffrey is an evil little shit, Prince Tommen is fat and stupid, and Princess Myrcella is just like Sansa. King Robert is an old, fat, clumsy, smelly drunk, and does not even look like a king. A king should look like you or Father.”

Connington was startled. _The child compares me to her father, and fancies that we look kingly!_

Arya had stopped to take a breath, but continued, “And I don’t like the way King Robert stares at me when he is not drunk – like Nymeria stalking a rabbit.” Connington thought, _So Robert has also seen her similarity to Lyanna. If Lord Stark is aware of this, he can’t be happy._

Arya was biting her lip now and frowning, “I really miss Father, though.” She looked at him with wide, shining grey eyes. “Can I write to him, my lord?”

 _She is clever enough to be charming when she wants something,_ he observed, _I’ll wager she has her father wrapped around her fingers._ He replied with a smile, “Of course, my lady. You _will_ tell him that we are treating you well and that you like Prince Aegon’s company?”

She looked at him as though he had two heads. “ _Of course_ I will write that, what did you think?” She ran out to find Haldon, who would help her write her letter. Connington could not help but chuckle. _This could get very interesting_. But then he frowned. _I only worry about her influence on Aegon. He has obviously become enchanted by her and that direwolf._


	3. Arya and Aegon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on ASoIaF chronology, I imagine that Aegon is about 14 years old in this fic.

After the riding adventure, Aegon began to spend even more time with Arya. Growing up, he did not have siblings with whom to share experiences, and Arya, in her very animated way, regaled him with endless tales of her huge family, life in the fascinating castle of Winterfell, and the fun she had with her brothers. She also entertained him with stories of the North, and the Wall, and the Wildings beyond the Wall. Some of the stories seemed incredible, _like fairy tales_ , he thought, _and no one told me fairy tales before._ She loved to run and play and wrestle with her direwolf, and Aegon joined her in these activities. He was delighted, and thought, _Arya is like the little sister I never had. Actually, she is more like a little brother!_

Arya had an insatiable curiosity, and she would drag him around the camp on her explorations. As at Winterfell, she had made friends with the Master of Horse and all the stableboys, and helped them groom the horses. Cook was fond of her and knew that she loved sweets. Arya took Aegon to the forge and introduced him to the smith, and even explained basic metalworking. She proudly told him that Mikken, the smith at Winterfell, was her good friend and made her a _real_ sword, which she had hidden in her chest back at her camp. Simply by tagging along with Arya, Aegon was learning more about the life of a soldier.

At the edge of camp, Arya would easily climb into the fruit trees, throwing down apples for Aegon to collect. She challenged him to climb a tree after her, and Aegon responded, “Princes do not climb trees.”

At that, Arya rolled her eyes and sneered, “You’re just afraid!”

Insulted, Aegon shouted, “I am not!” and rapidly climbed into the tree. He was clumsy at first, but got better with experience. _If Lord Connington sees me in a tree, I will get another lecture._ But he saw her smiling at his effort, and he was pleased.

Arya continued her sparring lessons with Duck, as did Aegon, and he often set them against each other, giving them both advice while observing their technique. Once a sellsword sneered, “Why are you wasting your time with a _girl_?!” Duck wordlessly tossed him a practice sword and motioned for him to engage the child. The sellsword was surprised at Arya’s ferocity and speed, and although she had no chance of doing any harm to the grown man, he was impressed by her attitude and developing skill. After that, no one questioned Duck’s training sessions with the ‘wolf girl’.

Arya was just as eager in book lessons, and knew almost as much about heroes and battles in the North as Haldon, and proudly announced that several of the leaders there had been female Starks. Her heroes were mainly bloodthirsty warrior women, like Queen Nymeria of the Rhoyne (for whom her direwolf was named), who conquered Dorne with her 10,000 ships, Princess Xena of Amphipolis, the champion of the helpless, and especially Aegon’s own ancestor, Visenya Targaryen. Arya’s eyes would get a faraway look when she would speak about Queen Visenya astride her dragon Vhagar, wielding her Valyrian steel sword, Dark Sister, and conquering mighty Harrenhal with her siblings. It was obvious that Arya imagined herself performing such feats of conquest when she became older.

Arya appeared to be self-confident and bold, but Aegon realized that she was sensitive about being told she could not do certain things because she was too young. “I am not a small child!” she would shout, “my ten and first nameday is coming soon, and my sister will be three and ten! I heard Mother tell Father that Sansa will be a woman grown soon!”

It was even worse if she were told that her choices were limited because she was a girl, and Aegon enjoyed teasing her when the opportunity arose. Arya confided to him that she intended to become Lord Connington’s squire, and Aegon retorted, “Girls can’t be squires!” She cursed and fumed, and stomped away. He was most amused by her discomfiture, and thought that even though Arya tried her best to look like a boy, she looked particularly attractive when she was furious, with her flashing eyes, wild hair, and angry face. Aegon chuckled to himself, _she is cute when she is most dangerous!_

After the Golden Company landed in Westeros, Targaryen loyalists started arriving at the camp to pledge fealty to Aegon. Several lords even brought their daughters to meet him, hoping that he might favor one and make her his queen when he took the Iron Throne. Aegon had to show his respect for these traditional bannermen, and spent time with the girls, although he was not happy to do so. He thought, _Arya is completely unlike those other highborn girls. She doesn’t simper, giggle, or flirt. She is honest and frank and direct. I like her much more than any of those other girls._

Sometimes Arya was present at these audiences, and the other girls found her peculiar. For her part, Arya merely felt bored and uncomfortable, as she was around Sansa. One little lady insulted Arya, saying, “All Northerners are barbarians.” She responded by pushing the girl down into the mud. The girl’s father, of House Buckwell, complained to Jon about his unruly ward. Connington had no particular affection for Lord Buckwell, knowing him to be an opportunist, supporting whoever might be in power, and told him that his daughter needed to learn her manners and not insult other guests. Jon chuckled to himself, amused by Arya’s treatment of the pompous highborn girl.

During dinner one evening, as they discussed the bannermen, Jon told Aegon that at some point he would probably have to choose a wife from the ladies being presented to him. Aegon replied firmly, “I don’t want to marry any of those girls! Can’t I be betrothed to Arya?”

Jon gave a start and suddenly choked on his wine, his eyes bulging out. Duck moved in quickly and pounded his back as he coughed and sputtered and turned purple. When his composure returned, such as it was, he exploded, “What in the seven hells are you asking?! That is the most insane idea in the world!”

Aegon looked petulant, but stubbornly replied, “None of those girls are as much fun as Arya, and she is a lot more honest than any of them. She is my best friend. Those girls don’t really want me anyway, they want a crown!”

The argument continued until Arya piped up, “You are both stupid! I _never_ want to get married! All married ladies do is sit around sewing and birthing babes. That is not the life that I want!”

Connington paused and thought, _at least one of these two has sense._ He was relieved for the moment, but now he was intrigued. “What _do_ you want, Lady Arya?”

“I want to travel the world, but I know that I want to go to Essos first. I heard the sellswords say that in Essos women are _not_ property, and can _own_ property. Women don’t have to get married there, and can work for themselves.”

“You want to work? Do you want to be a sellsword?” he smiled.

“No, I want to go to a ‘House of Pleasure’ on Braavos!”

Connington almost choked on his wine again. He looked sharply at Duck, who shrugged and looked clueless. “What do you know about Houses of Pleasure?”

“The sellswords talk about the famous ones on Braavos. The women run the houses there! There is music, singing, dancing, and drinking, of course – fighting men like to drink. There’s also lots of kissing, but I’m not interested in that.”

Connington thought, _I don’t know how much more of this I can take! It can’t be good for my heart!_

He turned to her, “Well, Lady Arya, when you return to your father, you can tell him all about your plans, and perhaps he will listen.” _And thank the gods that it won’t be me arguing with this stubborn child! Aegon is enough to deal with now, thanks to her!_

Connington had some peace for a few days as he discussed battle plans with his advisors, but knew that peace was short-lived when Arya was involved. Sure enough, he soon found himself confronting the worried faces of Haldon and Lemore. Lemore hesitated, and Haldon spoke, “Lord Connington, Aegon and Arya were seen swimming naked together in a pond, and we suspect that they were ‘playing maester’ as well.”

He sighed, “Well, bring the offenders to me.”


	4. Interlude - Correspondence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers – I am going to tease you with the adults’ reaction to Arya’s game “you show me yours, I’ll show you mine”. That will be uploaded for the weekend. Meanwhile, I have some plot development to address. The initial set-up was extremely far-fetched, and I plan to have my AU deviate from the canon dramatically. After all, who really wants to see noble Ned die? I am planting the seeds to save his life.

**Ned**

Ned sat in his cramped room in Castle Darry, holding Arya’s message.

_Dearest Father,_ it read, _Do not worry about me. Lord Connington and Prince Aegon are treating me very well. No one fusses, not even my septa, about my wearing breeches and acting like a boy. The maester is clever, and the master-at-arms is teaching me swordplay. The prince is as much fun as Robb or Jon, and even Nymeria likes him. Lord Connington is stern, but fair. I miss you terribly, but I am actually happier here than with Queen Cersei. Do not let concern for me affect what you have to do as Hand. Your loving daughter, Arya_

He inspected the parchment again. The penmanship was atrocious, and there were lots of ink blots. It was obviously in her hand. _Some prisoner!_ He thought, _she writes as though she has gone on a progress!_

Search parties were returning to Castle Darry again. Jory Cassel, Ned’s captain of the guard, knew his search was a sham, but kept that fact a secret, of course. Jaime Lannister returned empty-handed, but his eyes were hard and angry. Only he and Queen Cersei knew that the injured prince was _his_ son, not Robert’s. The Hound arrived, a grin on his wicked face as he dropped a large bloody cloak on the ground in front of Ned with a loud thump.

Ned’s blood froze, _Oh no! The monster has found Arya or her direwolf!_ He hurried to open the sack, and felt ashamed to be relieved as he realized that the awful corpse within was that of Arya’s friend, Mycah the butcher’s boy, and not Arya herself. He looked at The Hound accusingly, “You rode him down.”

The Hound retorted with a nasty laugh, “He ran. But not very fast.”

Anger raged inside of him. _These Lannisters are cruel; there is no kindness in their constitution. Robert was a fool for marrying into this family. Tywin Lannister is as evil as a snake and I don’t trust him!_

He made up his mind and decided on his course of action. “Jory, you are going to take another message to Lord Connington under a flag of truce. Then you will return and guide me to his camp. Tell no one of my plans.” Jory’s eyes went wide, but he nodded in agreement. Then Ned called for his steward, Vayon Poole, and told him to fetch him Arya’s trunk.

He tried to consider every detail. _I’m leaving Sansa with this nest of vipers!_ He summoned Septa Mordane and ordered her to study Cersei’s and Joffrey’s behavior towards Sansa carefully. Strangely enough, Cersei still considered Sansa as Joffrey’s betrothed and insisted that she constantly attend court. Ned ordered the septa to find some excuse to remove Sansa and her companion, Jeyne Poole, at any sign of trouble. He called in Desmond, one of the Stark’s best guardsmen, and ordered him to be Sansa’s shield, to watch the people around her carefully, and to protect her with his life if needs be. He added, “Do not discuss my orders with anyone.”

Finally, Ned went to the main hall of Castle Darry, where the king and queen were holding court and amidst all the drama. Queen Cersei was still angrily calling for Arya to be maimed in retaliation for Joffrey’s wound when she was found, and had ordered that Sansa’s direwolf be killed because Nymeria was still missing. Ned had had to carry out that awful task, and Sansa was still distraught. Robert had said nothing about the cruel act, and Ned had even less love for the Baratheon-Lannister court now.

Ned was relieved to see that Robert was not excessively drunk as he approached. He addressed his king. “Your grace, word has arrived that Prince Aegon Targaryen, Lord Jon Connington, and the Golden Company have landed at Maidenpool and are invading the Crownlands. Several of the local Houses are flocking to the prince, who is preparing for war. I suggest that you make haste to King’s Landing, as your honor guard of two hundred soldiers cannot adequately protect you from this army. I will follow you after I investigate the scope of the Targaryen forces right now.”

King Robert was happy to have an excuse to abandon uncomfortable Castle Darry and immediately gave the orders to depart. _Good,_ thought Ned, _they will be out of my hair for the moment. I only hope that Sansa will be safe until I can fetch her._

**Connington**

Jon waited impatiently for Lemore to fetch Arya and Aegon. He had more important things to do instead of disciplining children, but since Arya had arrived in camp, he was forced to deal with her continually. Thinking back on Aegon’s request to be her betrothed, he thought, _she will be a curse to any husband_. But his sense of humor had to add, _however, a life with Arya would always be interesting!_ He wondered aloud to Haldon, who was standing next to him, “Mayhaps I should bind the girl up in rope, gag her, wrap a ribbon around the whole package, and send her and that damned wolf off as a gift to her father. She is not worth the trouble she causes.”

Feeling exasperated, he asked the half-maester rhetorically, “Why do you suppose she is so contrary? I have never met such an unusual child.”

Haldon actually had an answer. “Milord, have you observed that Arya holds her sword in her left hand, not her right, as most people do?” he pointed out, “she writes and probably holds a sewing needle with her left hand, also. Her penmanship is poor and she admits that she hates sewing. Lessons in all these activities are designed for right-handed people. Arya has been at odds with normal behavior her whole life. Mayhaps that explains why she is so different from other girls.”

Connington was inclined to agree and responded, “You may have the truth of it, but I suspect that there is more. Stark women have a tendency to be special.”

At that moment, a guard arrived with a Stark messenger. Jon took the parchment offered to him and read it. _Lord Connington, I am most appreciative that you have been kind to Arya and have made her visit in your camp so delightful for her. I know she can be a handful. I would like to meet with you, as I feel we need to parlay face to face. If you agree, my captain, Jory Cassel, who bore this message, will accompany me to your camp. Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell._

_Hmmm,_ Jon observed, _he omitted ‘Hand of the King’. Mayhaps he considers this meeting a private matter? I am most curious to hear what he has to say. And he writes, ‘I know she can be a handful’. What an understatement! I will be surprised if he actually intends to reclaim her!_

He turned to Jory, “You may tell Lord Stark that I welcome a parlay. My maester will compose a writ of passage and you may go and fetch him.”

Connington was having a very busy day. Soon afterwards, Haldon approached with a raven from Dorne. This parchment read, _Lord Connington, Please give my respects to Prince Aegon and inform him that Dorne rejoices in his arrival to combat the Usurper’s forces. The hands of Robert Baratheon and the Lannisters are drenched in Targaryen and Martell blood, and Dorne demands vengeance. You can depend on your allies to the South. My sister, Nymeria Sand, will arrive soon to discuss strategy. Obara Sand, Captain of the Army of Dorne_

_Well,_ Connington thought, _in the space of a day, I may have lost an adversary, and gained an ally!_ He was feeling so pleased that he chuckled to himself, _mayhaps Arya is a good luck charm as well as a distraction!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya will find Lady Nym to be a good role model, but Connington may not agree.


	5. Consequences

**Previously:**

Jon had some peace for a few days as he discussed battle plans with his advisors, but knew that peace was short-lived if Arya was involved. Sure enough, he soon found himself confronting the worried faces of Haldon and Lemore. Lemore hesitated, and Haldon spoke, “Lord Connington, Aegon and Arya were seen swimming naked together in a pond, and we suspect that they were ‘playing maester’ as well.”

He sighed, “Well, bring the offenders to me.”

**Connington**

The two ‘miscreants’ approached him. Their hair was dripping wet and it was obvious that, when discovered, had quickly pulled on their clothing without drying off their bodies. Aegon had a guilty visage and would not raise his eyes. Arya, though, had a defiant expression and confronted Jon.

“We have done nothing wrong, my lord! In Winterfell I swam with my brothers often and no one made a fuss. There is no need for concern.”

“Mayhaps that is true, Lady Arya, but Prince Aegon is not your brother, and as you like to point out frequently, you are not a little girl anymore. It is not proper for a boy and a girl of your ages, rank, and breeding to be seen playing naked together in a pond.”

Arya looked a little less defiant and bit her lip. “It was all my idea, my lord, and I persuaded Aegon to join me. Please do not punish him.”

Connington thought, _She is willing to take all the blame! The child does have honor!_ However, all he said was, “Actually, my lady, I am more concerned about your little ‘explorations’ with Aegon at the pond. Septa Lemore would like to chat with you, and Aegon, come confer with me.”

At that Arya actually reddened and hurriedly walked away with Lemore.

Jon looked sternly at Aegon, whose nerve had returned enough for him to meet his mentor’s gaze. He looked as guilty as a puppy caught with a chewed-up slipper. Jon could not help but smile to himself, thinking, _no harm has really been done._ He asked, “I suppose ‘playing maester’ was also Arya’s notion?”

Aegon blushed intensely and said, “When we had undressed, I could not help but look at her, and she noticed my glances. She is far from shy, my lord, and, umm, suggested that we satisfy our curiosity about each other’s bodies. Now I realize that this was inappropriate, but it seemed like a good idea at the time. I am sorry for my behavior.”

Connington decided that Aegon’s embarrassment was punishment enough. “Well, I see you realize that was improper conduct for a prince and a lady. Aegon, you are older than Arya and you are male. You should have used your natural authority to overrule her proposals.”

Aegon protested, while rolling his eyes, “”My lord, it is difficult to order Arya around. She either sulks or ignores me when I try. Nymeria likes me, but she shows her fangs when Arya is angry.”

Connington had to laugh, “And you want to be betrothed to her! If you cannot control her as a child, imagine what life would be like in five years! In any case, I can expect that you will not play that game again, correct?”

Aegon nodded, looking at the ground again.

“All right then, go put on dry clothing and continue your lessons with Haldon. We will speak no more of this.”

Aegon was only too happy to get away.

**Lemore**

Arya knew that Connington intended for Lemore to discuss her improper behavior. She actually had little self-consciousness about nudity, having played for years with her two older brothers, and endured the coarse comments of her father’s ward, Theon Greyjoy. However, she had not wanted to get Aegon into trouble, and hoped that it would not affect their friendship. She was biting her lip and looking worried.

Lemore saw that Arya was distraught, and held her arms out to the girl. Arya immediately climbed into her lap and pressed her face against her bosom, and the septa held her tightly. Lemore thought, _She may be a fiery wolf girl, but she still needs a mother._ Lemore felt a pang of sadness and regret. _The stillborn daughter I had with Brandon Stark would have looked like Arya!_ She could not help but sigh at the thought.

Lemore gently stroked Arya’s hair, and softly asked, “My lady, do you know how babes come about?”

Arya looked up at her and replied, “Before we left Winterfell, Mother and Septa Mordane took Sansa aside and told her it was time to learn about ‘the sword and the sheath’. I was curious and refused to leave, so they thought maybe I should hear the story also.”

“Did you understand what you heard?”

Arya nodded, “It made sense. I had already seen dogs and pigs coupling in the courtyard, and once my brothers took me to watch a stallion mount a mare.”

She paused and her eyes became wider as she recollected the experience. “The stallion’s cock was two feet long! Is that normal?”

Lemore’s jaw dropped in amazement at the unexpected question, “Um, I think it is normal.”

But Arya was looking thoughtful now, “You know, Aegon’s cock is larger than my brothers’. Does it keep growing? Will it become as large as the stallion’s?”

She had a curious look on her face, and Lemore was speechless. _This child constantly finds ways to surprise me!_ She replied briskly, “No, it won’t grow as large as the stallion’s, and, Arya, we still have something important to discuss.”

Arya looked uncomfortable, knowing what was going to follow.

“My lady, did you and Aegon do anything that you should tell me about?”

Arya blushed again and could not look into Lemore’s face now. “No, we only looked at each other and, umm, touched each other’s secret parts a little, that’s all. I didn’t want to get Aegon into trouble. Is he going to be punished? I will feel bad if he does. Aegon is my best friend, and Lord Connington is very strict. I’m sorry about the whole mess.”

Lemore saw that Arya’s eyes were damp and she was holding back tears. This surprised her because in the short time she had known the stubborn child; Arya just gritted her teeth in painful silence when she came to Lemore with bruises to be bandaged. One time she related that her brothers had sneered that only _girls_ cried when injured. _And yet, knowing that she might have caused a friend to come to harm, upset her more than her own peril. She is truly a reliable friend, Lemore thought, much like her father._

“Lady Arya, Prince Aegon appeared to be as remorseful as you do, and I think if both of you promise not to ‘play maester’ again, there will be no punishment.”

“I promise, Lemore, and I’ll try to stay out of trouble.”

Lemore started to ease Arya off her lap, “Good, I see we are agreed.”

“There’s only one more thing,” Arya added, “I’m not very good at staying out of trouble.”

**Connington**

When Jon returned to his pavilion, he found Arya inside, poring over his map. He remembered that she had asked about his plans when they first met. She had been muddy, hungry, and lost at that time, but still had the curiosity to question him.

He scowled at her, “What are you doing here!? No one gave you permission to be in my tent!”

Arya ignored his anger, and simply looked up at him. “I think you should seize Harrenhal for your base. Defending a castle is much easier than a camp in the forest.”

Connington was amused, _The cheek of this girl!_

“Is that your expert opinion?” he asked sarcastically.

Again, she took no offense, but simply nodded. “I heard the sellswords talking. Harrenhal is not well guarded, and no one really wants to stay there. The occupying soldiers are convinced that it is haunted, and they are afraid of ghosts.” Then she snorted, adding, “ _I’m_ not afraid of ghosts! My brother Jon tried to scare me by covering himself in flour and surprising me in the tombs, but I beat him with my stick instead!”

Jon found that he was enjoying the conversation with the unpredictable child.

“So I suppose you want to join my war council?” he japed.

Arya was serious, “I could help you by pointing out the stupid and useless advisors.”

She sat down in his chair, and explained, “Father always said that a good lord knows his people. Every evening at Winterfell, he would have a different person sit next to him at dinner and he would question the guest about his life and opinions. The guest could be a carpenter or a farmer one night, or a visiting bannerman the next night.”

Connington remained attentive, leaning over his map. Making herself comfortable, Arya took a sip of wine out of his cup and continued. “I sat at the children’s table, but I always got into trouble by throwing food at Sansa and Jeyne when they teased me. Mother would grab me by my ear and plunk me down next to Father, the only one who could make me behave properly. I listened to the conversations and learned that being highborn does not guarantee having brains. Some of the most thickheaded men I have met were lords, and some of the smartest were smallfolk. I’m sure that you have both types on your council, and I can spot the stupids quickly.”

 _Haldon was right,_ he thought, _she really is clever. If she were a boy, I would appoint her my squire in a minute._

Jon paused for a moment, and responded, “Actually, my lady, I need your assistance in another matter. We are trying to prepare the prince to become king, and you can aid Aegon in his education. You are already attending lessons with him, so encourage him to study strategy and tactics carefully. Help him with his sums, too. When sparring in the practice yard, look for any weakness, and help Duck train him correctly. Think on it. I know you despise the present king and crown prince, and you could be responsible for molding a better ruler for Westeros.”

What he was saying was risky, but he knew appealing to her pride could be effective. _Besides,_ he thought, _if she were my ally, she would have her father’s ear._

Arya nodded thoughtfully.

Jon could not resist another jape, “And you can help by keeping your clothes on, too.”

Arya blushed and retorted, “Shite, I’m never going to hear the end of it, will I? Right, I’ll think on it.” She got up and started to exit the tent, but turned and added before leaving, “I still think that I should be on your war council.”

As Arya departed, Connington thought, _I had the right of it, the wolf girl does make life interesting._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: "Visitors"


	6. A Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes: In some ways, Aegon is a typical 14 year old boy.
> 
> I hope the politics isn’t boring, but I felt it was necessary to set up the plot.

Ned and Jon stood looking awkwardly at each other. Jory had made the introductions, and Jon then pointed out the mess tent and told him to find some refreshment. Ned said, “Since this parley was my idea, I suppose I should speak first.” He paused for a breath and continued. “First of all, I regret the horrible deaths of Prince Rhaegar’s family, and did not want Rhaegar himself to die, especially since I learned that we were good-brothers. I do not hold Prince Aegon responsible…..”

Jon interrupted, “Hold! You knew about the secret marriage?”

Ned nodded, “Yes, when I went to the Tower of Joy, Lyanna told me that she was legally wed to Rhaegar as his second wife. He was in love with my sister, but he also did have an ulterior motive. Elia gave him two children, and the maesters said that she would have no more. Rhaegar believed that the dragon must have three heads. Lyanna gave birth to the third head before she died.”

Jon looked sad, “But I thought that child died, also.”

Ned shook his head, “Lyanna’s child is alive, and I have hidden and protected him for his whole life.”

Connington replied, “Then Aegon has a half-brother. I would like to meet him.”

Lord Stark looked wary, “It is too dangerous to reveal his existence right now. If Aegon becomes king, that situation may change. How can I be sure that you would not seek to kill him, also?”

Jon looked shocked, “I would never have evil intentions towards any child of Rhaegar’s. They would be as precious to me as Rhaegar himself.”

Ned did not look like he completely trusted that last statement. “Nevertheless, I feel I must keep his identity a secret for now. Mayhaps we can discuss this again in the future. As I was saying, I do not hold Prince Aegon responsible for the deaths of my father and brother as those were actions of Mad King Aerys. I bear no grudges and simply want to raise my own family in peace.” Ned paused again to let Jon respond.

“Yet you are the Hand of King Robert, who took Prince Rhaegar’s life and throne.” Connington simply stated.

Ned sighed, “Becoming Hand was not my choosing, my lord. Robert is a good soldier but a terrible ruler. Jon Arryn, who served as the previous Hand, privately informed me that Westeros has been in greater debt since he was crowned, and owes vast sums of gold dragons to the Iron Bank of Braavos, and even worse, to Casterly Rock. Robert beseeched me to serve as Hand when Lord Arryn suddenly died, and I had to agree. We were fostered together by Lord Arryn since we were boys and we are best friends. I could not refuse Robert, although I told him that I was reluctant and that my wife was totally opposed. With each day I regret the decision more and more. I see that Robert is simply a pawn in the ambitious plans of the Lannister family, and Tywin Lannister is the man I trust least in this world. The Starks bent the knee to Targaryen rulers for three centuries, and I do not want to call my banners to a battle in defense of a Lannister regime.” Ned knew that this was a traitorous admission if heard by the wrong ears, but he felt it was the right thing to do.

Jon looked very thoughtful. He had been King Aerys’ Hand and Rhaegar’s best friend. He had experienced the painful obligations of true friendship. “So you personally do not intend to challenge Prince Aegon’s claim to the Iron Throne?”

Ned replied, “Yes, and I believe that my bannermen do not want to fight another war in the South, and if I advise neutrality, they will agree. There is little respect for King Robert in the North, and my lords disdainfully regard him as a slave to wine and wenching, fathering an astounding number of bastards, and caring little for the health of Westeros and her people. Robert is considered a man without honor, something the people of the North believe is most important, and thus, they despise him. There is even less love in the North for the ruthless Lannisters.”

“I had not expected you to be so open and forthright, Lord Stark. I share your hatred and mistrust for the Lannisters. So what do you intend to do?”

“I have an impossible task. I must proceed to King’s Landing and meet with Robert and the small council. As Hand, I have the responsibility of trying to keep the kingdom out of a war that it cannot afford and cannot win. There are many Houses who secretly call Robert ‘the Usurper’ and will flock to Prince Aegon’s banners. Rumors fly that Daenerys Targaryen has dragons now and plans to return to Westeros. If there is a war for the Iron Throne, the results will be awful, and the smallfolk will suffer the worst.”

Connington confirmed Ned’s notions, “It is true that Prince Aegon has much support in Westeros and that Daenerys will return. This could be a bloody, devastating war.”

“Well, I will do my best to prevent it, but considering my adversaries, I am sure to fail.”

“What will you do then? If you fail, you must realize that your life will be in grave danger.”

“I will try to get my family and retainers out of the Red Keep alive, and return to the North as quickly as possible to meet with my own people. After what I have told you, can we expect to receive safe passage through the lands you control?”

Jon spoke carefully, “As much as I cursed your participation in the last war, I believe that you are an honorable man, and I cannot hold you directly responsible for Targaryen deaths. Like you, I lay the blame at the feet of the Lannisters. I believe that we have a common enemy. If you truly do not intend to support King Robert in another war against the Targaryens, you have nothing to fear from us.”

Ned exhaled, “This is the most difficult decision I have ever made, and I hope it does not lead to my death or the death of my loved ones, or leave me branded as a traitor or a coward.”

“On the contrary, Lord Stark, only a very brave man could make such a decision, and I wish you good fortune. I hope we meet again under better circumstances.”

\-------------------------------------

Arya and Aegon were approaching the pavilions when Arya noticed Lord Connington talking to a tall man that she had not seen in camp before. She was startled to realize that the man was her father and took off in a run.

Jon heard a shriek behind him. “Father!!” Arya was yelling in a very excited, girlish voice that she had never used since arriving in camp.  
Arya rushed over to Ned and jumped into his arms, almost knocking him over. He looked closely at her and saw the dirty clothes, the scratches on her face, the twigs caught up in her braid, and her beaming smile. _She definitely does not seem like a hostage,_ he thought. He kissed the top of her head, murmuring, “I missed you, sweetling”. Nymeria was whining and rubbing her head against his leg. When he could free up a hand, Ned reached down to scratch behind her ear and the direwolf purred and looked contented.

 _What an unusual family,_ Jon thought.

Arya was so happy that she started gushing, as she often did when excited. “Lord Jon, I am so glad you have met my father. I want you to be friends.” She was stroking Ned’s cheek. “You should grow a beard like Father’s, you would look as fierce as a Northerner if you did.” She looked past the two men at Aegon. “Aegon would look good with a beard, too.” Arya looked at Ned again. “Lord Connington is a much better man than King Robert – he doesn’t get drunk or grope serving women. He has been very good to me and doesn’t fuss about how a lady should act.”

She realized that Aegon was fidgeting behind her, so she pulled herself loose from her father’s hug, turned and grabbed Aegon’s arm, shoving him in front of Ned. “Father, this is Prince Aegon, he is my best friend. I taught him how to climb fruit trees.” she said with a nervous glance at Jon, but briskly continued, “And we have been picking apples for Cook. She said she would bake us tarts.”

Aegon was awkwardly holding a sack of apples. “I am honored to meet you, my lord,” he mumbled politely yet nervously, looking as uncomfortable and mortified as an anxious suitor, Ned noted with amusement.

But what Aegon was thinking as he faced Lord Stark, was, _Seven hells! This is Arya’s father and I saw her naked a few days ago!_ The image of her nude body popped unbidden into his mind. He had been familiar with her tanned face and hands, but he had marveled at the expanse of porcelain white skin covering her torso and legs, broken only by the two tiny raspberry teats in the middle of her chest. He was staring at Ned with that likeness in his brain and thinking, _A few days ago I looked into her secret place and touched her!_ He felt extreme embarrassment and hoped that he was not sweating. Aegon silently prayed to the Seven that Connington had not told Lord Stark about their activities at the pond. He could not even imagine how Arya’s father would react to that and didn’t want to find out.

But Ned had no idea what was on Aegon’s mind, and instead noticed that Aegon had the classic Targaryen features – he was tall and willowy for his age, with long silver hair and brilliant violet eyes, as beautiful as a maiden. Ned imagined that Sansa would swoon at the sight of for him, yet it was obvious that Arya seemed to be immune to his physical charms, and saw him as an enjoyable companion.

Ned also observed that the prince, although having four more namedays than Arya, appeared to be enchanted by her liveliness. He could not help but think back to Rhaegar and Lyanna, a thought that would not leave him in peace.

He turned his attention to his daughter again and said, “Arya, I have brought you some things,” and handed her a sack of clothes and a long, thin package.

She quickly unwrapped the package and exclaimed happily, “You brought me my Needle!” and reached up to give him a hug and kiss. Arya turned and proudly showed Needle to Aegon. “Aegon, this is my own _real_ sword!”

Then she turned back to Ned. “How did you know I had this?”

Ned chuckled as he replied, “You thought to keep this a secret from me? I still rule Winterfell, and Mikken answers to me. He asked for permission after Jon spoke to him.”

Arya had moved on to another topic already. “Now that I have my real sword, can I squire for Lord Connington? If you say yes, he can’t refuse me.”

Both Ned and Jon smiled at her request, and Ned answered, “I am sorry, sweetling, but girls cannot become squires. But if Lord Connington will have you, you can be his ‘ward’, as Theon Greyjoy is for me.”

Connington said, “I have no objection. She has already been filling that role since she arrived. Lady Arya is a very persistent young woman.”

Arya decided that ‘ward’ was the best official position that she could expect right now and bowed her head towards Jon and told him, “Thank you, my lord,” while thinking, _it’s a start. I’ll keep at them about becoming a squire._ Then she looked at Aegon and said, “We have to show my sword to Ser Rolly. He can show me how to spar with Needle. My lords, may we go?”

Ned nodded, “We will talk some more later. I am not leaving immediately.”

Arya ran off, dragging Aegon with her, and Nymeria raced behind them.

Jon and Ned watched the two youngsters depart in a cloud of dust, and both were smiling at the sight. Jon commented, “She is certainly a force of nature, isn’t she? I don’t know how you and her mother have survived her thus far.”

Ned sighed, “We have six children, and a mischievous ward, in total, but it is Arya that requires the most attention. I admit that she can be most exhausting.”

Jon looked shrewdly at Ned, “You know, the prince wants to be betrothed to her.”

Instead of being taken aback, Ned laughed, “He has no idea what he is asking for. Any man who Arya would agree to marry would have no time or energy to do anything but try to keep up with her antics.”

Jon responded, “I agree. She has kept me occupied since she arrived, and I cannot separate Aegon from her.”

Ned nodded, “I am not surprised. She has four brothers, and at Winterfell she followed the two older ones and my ward, Theon Greyjoy, everywhere, playing like a boy. Arya has always been an active child.”

Connington wondered if he could shake Ned’s seeming composure. “Arya stated that she plans never to marry, but intends to become a courtesan in the pleasure houses of Braavos.”

Instead of being shocked, Ned laughed, “She will quickly change her mind once she learns that she would be expected to wear dresses all the time, bathe and brush her hair every day, and smile prettily at men. No, I can’t see her doing that. I wouldn’t be surprised to see her working in a stable instead.”

“Nevertheless, I have no doubt that she will resemble her Aunt Lyanna in a few years. Consider this, Lord Stark, if you _were_ to serve as Hand to King Robert and take her to King’s Landing, imagine what King Robert would do. Arya is already aware that he watches her. Once she flowers, do you think he could keep his hands off of her? What would you do if he insisted on taking her as his paramour?”

Ned frowned and clenched his fists. He growled, “I would never let him touch my daughter. But I fear that she would be the first to stick a dagger into the king if he became improper, and that could start a war, too.”

He knew that Lord Connington spoke the truth. Robert always had a roving eye and had fathered his first bastard when he was still a lad. He had wanted to marry Lyanna, and had convinced himself that he loved her. However, Lyanna knew that he would be an unfaithful husband, and was reluctant to wed him.

Ned’s father had arranged the intended marriage for political purposes – he wanted to ally the North with a Great House of the South. Lyanna had not wanted to marry Robert, but would not go against her father’s wishes. However, when Rhaegar offered her an alternative, she did not hesitate to act. Everyone thought that she had been kidnapped, but the truth was that she made her own choice. Robert had become distraught and embarrassed, and vowed vengeance. Thus the great tragedy that culminated at the Trident had begun.

Ned sighed as he reflected on the past, and looking over, he realized that Lord Connington was having the same thoughts. “We have seen some terrible things in our lives, and I do not wish to repeat these horrors, or inflict them on my family.”

Jon responded, “I agree. Mayhaps the two of us can broker a better world.”

Ned smiled ruefully, “To do so, we would need Arya’s spirit and optimism. Do you think there is enough to go around?”

Connington looked thoughtful, “I have seen stranger things. In any case, the child is perceptive. She has given me an interesting idea. Come, let us toast the future with a glass of wine.”


	7. An Unexpected Meeting

Ned and Jon were walking across the compound, and by chance encountered Septa Lemore. Ned and Lemore stopped and stared at each other.

Jon spoke, “My lord, this is Septa Lemore.”

“Ashara Dayne,” Ned whispered, surprise in his voice.

“I had forgotten that you knew each other.” Jon said.

Lemore nodded, and Ned replied, “Yes, we have history. Will you excuse us, my lord. The lady and I have much to discuss.”

Connington nodded, watching them carefully, wondering how they would deal with the past, recalling that it was complicated.

Ned reached out and kissed her hand, murmuring, “I thought you were dead. I am glad that it is not true.”

Lemore lead him to her pavilion so they could speak in privacy. She replied, “I feigned my death and traveled to Essos. I have helped raise Aegon to be a king.”

They entered Lemore’s tent, and Ned observed that it appeared as if a windstorm had passed through – bedclothes were scattered everywhere; clothing, toys, and weapons littered the floor.

The septa smiled and laughed. “I share my pavilion with your wild daughter. As you can see, she is none too neat. If left to her own devices, she would bed down by a campfire at night, sharing stories with the soldiers, or worse, remaining in Aegon’s pavilion all night. She has no idea how inappropriate her instincts are. I try to have some control over her actions, but it is a difficult task. She is often one step ahead of me.”

Ned grinned, “Her chambers at Winterfell were much the same. Arya seems to leave a trail wherever she goes. I apologize if she has disrupted your life.”

Lemore returned his smile, “On the contrary, I enjoy her presence. Even Lord Connington would admit that our lives have become more interesting since she has arrived.”

“Yes, Lord Jon described her as ‘a force of nature’. A long time ago, there were strong warrior queens in the North. Arya is a reincarnation of those ancient Starks.”

Tears welled up in Lemore’s eyes, “I look at her and think that the stillborn daughter I had with your brother Brandon would have looked like Arya. It breaks my heart.”

Ned frowned, “That accursed Harrenhal tourney affected so many lives – you and I, Brandon, Lyanna, Rhaegar, and Robert. I wish it had never happened.”

She sighed, “What you say may be true, but I am glad that I met Brandon. During the short time we spent together, I loved him dearly. If fate would have allowed it, I would have married him. I know that both our families would have been scandalized, but I didn’t care.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks at the memory.

Eddard Stark was a not a man who could stand to see a woman cry. He enfolded her in his arms and stroked her back as she laid her head on his chest. He murmured, “Sometimes I wonder if duty should be more important than love. Brandon was betrothed to Catelyn Tully, but they did not even know each other. When he died, her betrothal was transferred to me, a man she knew even less. She was a dutiful daughter, and did not complain. The same was true for me. Love between us did not arise until we already had two children.”

She was comforted and gently broke the embrace before it became awkward. Ned looked so much like Brandon that she had to suppress the urge to kiss him. “But you are happy now and I am content being Aegon’s ‘mother’, in a sense.”

Ned sighed also, “Yes, but both our reputations had to suffer in order to protect the innocent. Westeros believes that you and I had a tryst and that I returned to Winterfell with a bastard, and that Lyanna and Rhaegar had no progeny. My wife is still bitter and has never forgiven me for supposedly betraying her, and I have resisted telling her the truth. Catelyn hates the sight of the boy, and he feels guilty, although he has no reason to.”

Lemore asked gently, “The child of Lyanna and Rhaegar lives?”

“Yes, I have raised Jon as if he were my true son. He is an honorable lad and would be as excellent an heir as my oldest son, Robb, who is his best friend. Unfortunately, he felt that there was no future for him at Winterfell, and he took the Black. He is now at the Wall, and my younger brother Benjen is training him to be a ranger. Jon is Arya’s favorite brother, and their parting was terrible to behold. I fear she may never meet a boy that she can love as much as Jon.”

She spoke cautiously, “Targaryen kings have often taken more than one wife with the tacit approval of the Sept. Rhaegar and Lyanna were legally married. Thus, your Jon is not a bastard, but a Targaryen prince. He needs to be informed of his paternity so he can claim his birthright!”

Ned shook his head, “It is too dangerous to do that now. There are men at the Wall and in King’s Landing that would quickly strike his head off if they heard what you have just said. Jon should stay hidden until the proper time. I must tell you that I informed Lord Connington that Lyanna’s child lives, but no more. Can I trust him?”

Lemore nodded, “You can trust him. He would welcome Aegon’s brother. But I agree, no more should be said of Jon Targaryen until it is safe to reveal him.”

The discussion had darkened their mood, and Lemore decided to change the subject as she poured wine into two cups and invited Ned to sit down, pushing clothes from a chair to the floor of the pavilion. “So what do you think of our prince?”

Ned smiled, “He seems like a nice enough lad and he is remarkably handsome. I wondered why he was so agitated when he spoke to me.”

Lemore smirked, “I think he was trying not to blurt out his undying love for Arya.”

He snorted, “Arya has no interest in romance. She prefers fighting to fairy tales. Her sister Sansa is the starry-eyed one. She would swoon over your prince.”

She grinned, “I wager it would be even more interesting to have both sisters in camp.”

Ned grimaced, “No thank you. War would certainly break out. Thank you for the wine. I suppose I should find Lord Connington.”

\---------------------------------------------

Arya had proudly shown Needle to Duck. He inspected the long, thin, slightly flexible blade and determined that it was a rapier, and required a technique that differed from the one he had taught her for a shortsword. “This blade is best used with the Braavosi water dance, and I know little of that skill. We will have to find you a new instructor.” he told her.

Duck asked around Golden Company, and learned of Bokko, a young sellsword from Braavos, who was familiar with some of the basic techniques of the water dance. Ambitious for a promotion, Bokko agreed to instruct the highborn girl. Bokko had about twenty namedays, curly black hair, and his pleasant face was clean-shaven with a strong chin. He was handsome and he knew it. He had amused himself with most of the camp followers and was getting bored. Bokko looked at Arya and thought, _she may be only a pretty child, but she is better than the female company I have tired of already._ He was impressed with her earnestness as a student. While teaching Arya, he would place his hands on her intimately when he thought it was necessary, or so he said with a friendly smile, touching her hands, arms, sides, back, even once daring to brush her arse. Arya was so intent on learning the water dance that she did not seem to notice.

Aegon had been watching closely, and finally barked angrily, “Bokko, Lady Arya is a member of a Great House of Westeros, and you should be less familiar with her! Be more careful with your hands!”

Bokko half-bowed, nodded his head, and replied with a slight smile, “Yes, your grace,” but he only touched her a little less.

After the first lesson, Arya confronted Aegon, and snapped, “Why did you do that?”

Aegon looked embarrassed, and mumbled, “Bokko was taking liberties with you. I could not let that behavior go unremarked.”

Arya stared at him and realized, _Aegon is jealous of Bokko! He is not comfortable with another boy giving me attention! Ha! Piss on you, Sansa and Jeyne!_ She was beginning to like this game.

\--------------------------------------------

Arya and Aegon were playing cyvasse, munching on apple tarts, when Arya happened to look up and notice the arrival of the most beautiful horse she had ever seen. _That must be a sand steed from Dorne,_ she thought. On the back of the horse was a tall, proud warrior, with a greatsword secured on his back. The knight’s clothing was unusual, and as Arya looked more closely, she realized, _That knight is a woman!_ She stood up suddenly, accidentally knocking over the game board. “Aegon,” she said, “Let’s go!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am a sucker for unrequited love and romance, so I felt compelled to elaborate on this heartbreaking tale at the center of ASoIaF. I did not mention Ashara’s brother, Arthur Dayne, because the amount of drama discussed had already reached a critical point. I hope you don’t mind.


	8. Another Visitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is dedicated to the fans of Wonder Woman, whose movie was just released. “HG” Arya would have bought all the comic books, if they had been available to her. Cheers for the woman warriors!

Aegon and Arya were playing cyvasse when Nymeria Sand first arrived. Arya had already been intrigued by the sand steed she rode, and now she inspected the young woman with interest. She looked to have at least twenty namedays, was tall, and exuded an aura of confidence and strength. Her complexion was olive-colored, exactly like Aegon’s, and her face was beautiful with full lips and intelligent eyes. Her dark hair was cut short to her shoulders and she was garbed in colorful, flowing silk robes that enhanced her perfect figure. As distinctly feminine as she appeared, Arya also noted the well-used, dangerous greatsword strapped to her back.

She strode up to Aegon, and said, “Well met, cousin Aegon, I am Nymeria Sand and I bring greetings from your allies in Dorne.” She approached him and pressed a kiss on his cheek, and looked deep into his eyes.

Arya noticed that she moved with the grace and power of a cat. _Lady Nymeria has the air of a predator,_ she thought, _I wager she is a fierce warrior!_ Arya was enthralled.

Aegon was a bit unnerved by the sensuous kiss. _She is as forward as Arya_ , he thought.

Nymeria now turned her attention to Arya. “And who is this, your squire? No, he can’t be a squire, the braid tells me _he_ is actually a girl! Are you amusing yourself with a kitchen maid?” she asked Aegon with a wicked grin and a wink. “I am surprised, though. She appears too young to be a camp follower. You haven’t bedded her yet, have you?”

Aegon blushed, but before he could protest their innocence, Arya spoke up, “I am not a kitchen maid nor am I a camp follower, Lady Nymeria, I am Arya Stark of Winterfell.”

Nymeria smiled at the girl, “Of course, I was only japing. I see your direwolf now, and I should have recognized your Stark face. Why would a highborn lady wear breeches?”

“I wear boy’s clothes because I am training to be a swordfighter, and I like to run and climb trees, which one can’t easily do in a dress. What are you wearing?”

“Ah, in Dorne it is always too warm to wear gowns or woolen tunics and breeches, so both men and women wear loose robes of cool, lightweight silk. It is also easier to move in silks while fighting. I cut my hair short because of the heat, also. Long hair is just too much trouble to care for.”

“I want to cut my hair, too.” Arya said, fingering her long braid.

“No! You can’t cut it!” Aegon blurted out, “Your hair is beautiful!”

Nymeria looked at him curiously and smiled, but said nothing.

Arya retorted stubbornly, “You can’t tell me what to do! I’ll cut it if I want to!”

Aegon looked abashed and replied, “I didn’t mean it that way, I just meant that I like your long hair. I like how your braid swings on your back.”

Arya just huffed and turned back to Lady Nymeria, who was being sniffed by the curious direwolf. “My wolf is also named Nymeria, and she seems to like you.” Nymeria the wolf gave Nymeria the woman a lick on the hand, then returned to sit by Aegon’s side, pressed against his leg, her golden eyes staring at Lady Nymeria as Aegon rubbed behind her ears.

Nymeria smiled and said, “I see that we share the same heroes, and your wolf feels that she must guard the prince. I’m sure that we will be friends. Please call me Nym.”

Arya was obviously still curious about Lady Nym’s silk clothing. “My robes have an additional benefit during a battle, in that I use them to befuddle enemies.”

Now Arya looked confused. “What do you mean, Lady Nym?”

Nym smiled and said, “Arya, female fighters have a decided advantage. Women are the superior sex. Men are slaves to their cocks and can be easily distracted. A women warrior uses her body as another weapon in her armory, just like swords, daggers, arrows, and poison. Princess Xena of Amphipolis was famous for her magnificent breasts. She wore bodice armor that was slightly smaller than required because it accentuated her gifts. As opponents stared at the curve of her bosom, they would invariably get knocked on the head.”

The wolf girl appeared fascinated, and listened raptly.

The Sand Snake laughed and continued, “Men are stupid. I have skewered enemies as they attempted to view the curves of my body through the slits in my silks, forgetting that they were in danger. It was almost too easy to kill them. Princess Xena was cruel. She should have given men a glimpse of teat at least before ending their lives.”

Arya looked down at her flat chest, and said mournfully, “I can’t do that.”

Nym chuckled, “You haven’t even flowered yet! When you do, I have no doubt that men will be awestruck when they see your figure. You have already conquered a prince! Didn’t you just hear him say that you are beautiful?”

Aegon blushed and stammered, but Arya bit her lip and looked doubtful, “My sister Sansa always said that I was ugly, and she and her friend Jeyne would call me “Arya horseface”.

Lady Nym’s eyes flashed and her nostrils flared. “Horseface?! I say horseshit! When I meet this Sansa, I will have some choice words for her! That is no way to treat a sister!”

She shook her head to clear it of anger. “Your sister is wrong. Even in Dorne the beauty of your famous aunt Lyanna is well known and I am sure that you will resemble her. I can see that your legs are long for your age, and you will grow to a respectable height. Although you are a skinny youth now, if you eat right, ride, and continue sparring, your legs will look like mine.

Nym threw back her silks, and revealed a shapely and impressively long, powerful, tan leg. Aegon audibly gulped, and a sellsword passing nearby was mesmerized and tripped over a rock as he stared. Nym laughed as she saw him pull himself out of the mud and hurry away, embarrassed at his loss of composure.

Arya looked hopefully at her, “I am learning how to fight with two types of swords and I practiced archery at Winterfell. Would you teach me how to become a woman warrior?”

Nym smiled broadly, “Of course, Arya, it would be my pleasure. I like your attitude. Mayhaps someday you will fight beside my sisters and me. We will have fun while you learn. Tell me, you like riding, don’t you?”

“Oh yes, and I am the best rider in my family!”

Nym’s eyes twinkled, “When you flower, I will show you how to ride men as you ride horses. Mayhaps you can excel at that also. I find riding to be much fun, regardless of the type of mount.”

Lemore had arrived just in time to hear that last exchange. Blushing intensely, she said, “Lady Nym! That conversation is not for young ears!”

Aegon was blushing also, and Arya had a confused look on her face, but she just said, “Don’t be so concerned, Septa Lemore. Lady Nym is going to help me become a woman warrior, and I am sure that she will be a good teacher.”

“Yes, Ashara,” Lady Nym purred, recognizing her countrywoman, “I have Arya’s best interests at heart. Now I must take my leave. My sister Obara asked me to speak to Lord Connington as soon as I arrived. I will return shortly.”

\-------------------------------

Lady Nym approached Jon Connington. “Lord Jon, I thank you for fostering and protecting my dear cousin Aegon. I know that your travels in Essos were not trouble-free and I am grateful that you both arrived safely in Westeros.”

She was almost as tall as Jon, and as she gazed boldly into his eyes, she gave him a kiss on the cheek, while making sure to press her breasts firmly against him. Jon looked vaguely annoyed and drew back after welcoming her. _I am surrounded by forward women! This one will no doubt be a bad influence on Arya!_

Nym continued, “I assume that you received the raven from my sister Obara. Dorne will support Prince Aegon’s claim to the Iron Throne. When you are ready to march on King’s Landing, our army will attack from the south, and intercept supply wagons from the west. The Usurper and his Lannister lackeys will beg for mercy, but they will only taste our steel.”

Jon half bowed, presuming that the fierce young woman would not appreciate a formal kiss on her hand, and replied, “The prince and I welcome your support, and are pleased that Dorne will contribute greatly to our siege of King’s Landing. Lady Nymeria, please attend my planning council. I will inform you when it next meets. Meanwhile, I will have my steward assign you appropriate quarters.”

Lady Nym grinned slyly, “No need for that, Lord Jon, I will be staying with your delightful ward, Lady Stark, and her septa. Arya and I have become fast friends already.”

Jon tried to keep a blank face, but frowned inside, thinking, _Can this get any worse? Her effect on Arya will only cause more trouble!_

They discussed troop strengths and deployment, and speculated as to the size of their enemy’s forces before Lady Nym begged off to find something to eat, and Jon mused as he watched her walk away, her perfect derrière swaying languidly, _She presents the air of a carefree seductress, but the facade conceals a clever mind. I have heard that her sister Obara is a beauty, but she is also a respected general. I am glad that these sand snakes are on our side!_

\-----------------------------------------

Nym found Arya in the mess tent, having dinner with her father. Arya made the introductions, and Nym purred, “You Northmen are so rugged with your beards and furs! I find all of you so attractive. And I love your daughter,” she placed an arm around Arya’s shoulders, “we are almost like sisters already.”

Ned thought, _This clever beauty considers seduction a game for toying with men and getting them off their guard. I can see that Arya is already under her spell. This does not bode well, but there is nothing I can do right now._

\-------------------------------------------

Eventually it was time for Ned takes his leave.

Ned and Jon shared a masculine handshake, gripping forearms. Ned said, “We have chosen a difficult path. If we triumph, Westeros will be the better for it. If we fail, there will be many deaths.”

Connington replied, “You have the more dangerous path, and I fear for you. Good fortune! I will pray for your success.”

Ashara came to say farewell. Ned reached to kiss her hand, but instead she pulled him into an embrace, holding him much tighter than he anticipated, and whispering, “Stay safe, my lord.” The embrace was obviously meant to be intimate and was completely unexpected. Ned was puzzled, and was not comfortable with such attention from a woman other than his wife. He hoped that he had not given her a false impression of his feelings when he had comforted her.

After Arya spoke to Jory, telling him how happy she was in the Targaryen camp, to his great amusement, she approached her father and was enveloped by his arms. Ned felt that he had to tell Arya about Lady, hoping that she would realize that her spontaneous actions can sometimes cause undesired reactions that hurt others.

Arya responded, “I am sorry that you had to slay Lady, Father, but Sansa can’t blame me. That evil queen is responsible, and her shithead son, Joffrey, caused the whole problem. They can’t make me feel guilty.” Ned saw that she was unrepentant, but there were tears in her eyes for the innocent direwolf. But then her eyes became hard and flashed with steel, “Someday, Father, I am going to borrow Ice and take Cersei’s head off. I hate that bitch!”

Ned told her, “Watch your tongue, Arya. Cersei is still queen and has much power. Your words could be taken as treasonous. It is best to keep such thoughts to yourself.”

Arya still looked rebellious, “Then I am glad I am in the Targaryen camp! They agree with me here!”

Ned sighed. He hoped that his impulsive daughter wouldn’t do anything rash that would cause more trouble. “Enough of woes,” he said, “I want to give you a proper goodbye. I don’t know when we will meet up again, and I will miss you, sweetling.”

Arya realized that a battle loomed, and there was even a possibility that she might not see her father ever again, and she became emotional. Her large grey eyes glistened with unshed tears and she hugged him tightly, murmuring in a childish voice that she didn’t want him to leave.

Ned hugged her back tightly, and kissed her on top of her messy head, telling her to mind Lord Jon and Septa Lemore, as they would take good care of her.

Connington was watching them and thought, _She is not a wolf but a vixen! Look how she wraps her father around her fingers!_

Ned swung up into the saddle of his horse, and since he was now finally on the road, his mood improved. Ned loved riding. He looked down at Aegon, smiled and japed, “Prince Aegon, I leave my delicate flower in your care. I trust you to protect her and keep her from harm.”

Lord Jon thought, _Delicate flower, indeed! Mayhaps I should have told him how his darling daughter encouraged Aegon to play naked games with her under a bush!_

Before Aegon could reply, Arya spoke up forcefully, “Fuck, I’m no delicate flower and I can protect myself!” She placed her left hand on the pommel of Needle. She proudly wore the sword in her belt now, since there was no need to hide Needle any more. Arya had started practicing with a small throwing dagger, and she had that in her belt, also. She hoped that she looked dangerous.

Ned looked at her and said, “Please, daughter, clean up your language so it appears that your lady mother tried to teach you some manners. And I know you want to be a swordfighter, but don’t neglect your other lessons with the maester.”

Arya replied, “Lady Nym also volunteered to mentor me and help me become a woman warrior. She is going to teach me how to use my body as a weapon, and to ride a man like a horse.”

There was silence for a moment, and Jon and Ned looked at each other – both their jaws had dropped. At the same time, they looked over at Lady Nymeria, who was adjusting her silks.

Nym looked at them unperturbed. “Well, not immediately, of course.” she said with a wicked drawl.

Ned turned back to Jon. “Well, I leave you with your new ‘ward’, good fortune!” And with that he rode off with Jory. _Let Arya be his problem for a while longer!_ He thought.


	9. Arya, Ashara, Lady Nym, and Various Men

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady Nym was so pleased with her reception that she insisted I continue reporting on her adventures ASAP.

That evening after all the excitement was over, Ashara’s normally quiet pavilion seemed more like a dormitory. Lady Nymeria was in the bed that Ashara had previously prepared for Arya, and the wolf girl was cuddled up against her, explaining in a hushed voice how her real sister, Sansa, had treated her. “Mother and Septa Mordane would always fuss at me and try to force me into dresses. They insisted that I learn sewing and read poetry, and told the maester not to let me read history. Sansa would tattle on me whenever I got mud on my clothes, and told mother when I borrowed Bran’s clothes. Sansa and Jeyne would call me names and criticize me all the time, and would steal my practice swords, too.”

Nym stroked her hair, hugged her, made sympathetic noises, and finally said, “That sounds terrible! Aegon told me why you _are_ here in the first place, and I’m not surprised that you are happier in this camp. Sansa sounds like a terrible sister. Sisters should be friends and share secrets. I will be your big sister when we are together.” Nym’s eyes sparkled with mischief. “Do you want to share secrets? I’ll start first.”

Arya nodded, this sounded like fun.

Nym said, “More than anything, I love to tease men and boys. I love to see them fidget and become embarrassed and lose their composure. I am even going to see if I can make Lord Jon blush, and he is a real challenge. Watch me when I interact with men, I think you will learn something. Now you, do you have anything to confess?”

“Well,” Arya said slowly, “I convinced Aegon to go swimming naked with me and we got into a lot of trouble. But I saw Aegon’s cock, and it was big - bigger than both my older brothers!’”

Nym laughed and replied, “That’s good. A king should have an impressive cock. It’s one of the royal requirements. It is said that King Robert Baratheon has an extraordinary cock – so remarkable that half the women in the kingdom have seen it. He is not much admired for his brains, but his cock is another story. Arya….”, Nym was smiling, “Is that all you did, look?”

Arya blushed, “No, I touched him - it was so soft, and he wanted to touch me. He was so surprised when his finger slipped inside me.”

Nym leaned back and looked at her, “You are more precocious than I expected! You would do very well in Dorne. The weather is so warm that children go swimming all year long and swim naked together until they are teenagers. We have no mysteries about our bodies and we are quite comfortable about sex. Now I know why Prince Aegon blushes so much.”

“Lord Jon thinks that I am a bad influence on him.”

“I’m not surprised, but I doubt that Lord Jon can convince Aegon to avoid you. I think we will have a lot of fun together. You have already started your education. Good night, sweetling,” and she surprised Arya by kissing her lightly on the mouth and squeezing her.

 _Mother never kissed me goodnight like that,_ Arya thought before she fell asleep.

Meanwhile, Ashara was in her bed, sorting through her memories of the day, and recalling her thoughts about her lost love from so long ago, Brandon Stark. Try as she might to focus on Brandon, her mind kept wandering to thoughts of Ned Stark. She hadn’t been embraced in that fashion by a man in years, and it had felt good, even sensual, she admitted to herself. She had almost kissed him when he had held her in his strong but gentle arms, and if he had responded, she would have given herself to him on the spot. Ashara was bewildered by these feelings of arousal, which she hadn’t experienced in years. She looked over at the other bed, where Arya and Nymeria appeared to be snuggling like a pair of lovers. The air in the pavilion felt as if it were charged with static electricity. _It must be Lady Nym,_ Ashara thought, _that young woman seems to alter the atmosphere everywhere she goes._ She fell asleep trying to think about Brandon again, but Ned’s face kept appearing. Her last thoughts were, _Lord Stark will be returning, and I will have to be careful how I react to him._

__

\----------------------------------------

__

The next morning after breakfast, Arya invited Nym to watch her water dancing lesson. She was waving Needle excitedly. Nym’s eyebrows raised when she saw Bokko. _Now there is a delectable sweetmeat,_ she thought, and gave him a big smile. Bokko looked her up and down appreciatively, and returned the smile. When the lesson began, Nym observed that even though she had only started her training, Arya seemed to already move with grace and fluidity. _She is a natural,_ Nym thought. As Arya and Bokko progressed through the steps, Nym thought, _it is like a beautiful dance! Aegon was right, her swinging braid is attractive._ Nym then looked over at Aegon, who was watching the couple closely, and his shoulders tensed up every time Bokko touched Arya to correct her movement. Sometimes when Bokko was close to her, he murmured some jape, and she smiled brightly back at him. Nym saw Aegon scowl with darkened eyes when that occurred, but he said nothing. Nym thought, _it is cute how obsessed he is,_ but she was reminded that the previous obsession between a Targaryen and a Stark had resulted in Robert’s Rebellion. She thought, _I’m glad that there is no Baratheon to muddle things even more._ Nym didn’t know that there was a Baratheon in King’s Landing who had already laid eyes on Arya and liked what he saw.

__

After the lesson, Nym praised Arya for her developing skill with Needle, and turned to her trainer, saying, “Bokko, you seem quite talented, and I think you can provide me with some instruction, too. Why don’t we go for a walk and discuss swordplay?” Bokko nodded in agreement, and Nym took his arm. Nym turned to Arya, and said brightly, “Don’t wait up!” Later, while Arya and Aegon were wrestling with Nymeria, Nym and Bokko returned. Nym was combing her hair with her fingers, and had a very pleased expression on her face. Arya thought, _She looks like a cat that has just eaten the canary._ Bokko just looked disheveled and exhausted and excused himself, saying, “Lady Arya, no more lessons today, I must go take a nap.”

__

\--------------------

__

That afternoon, Arya wanted to take Nym to meet Ser Rolly, who was teaching the Westerosi shortsword technique to both Arya and Aegon. Nym was familiar with this style, and watched with interest as they sparred. With the shortsword, Arya was also fast and agile. Nym was amused that every time Aegon made a misstep or was careless, Arya was quicker than Duck to berate him and correct him. “Who is the instructor here?” Nym called out.

__

Arya paused and looked over at her, breathing heavily from exertion. “Lord Jon directed me to help Aegon become a good fighter. He said part of my responsibility as ward is to help prepare Aegon to be king.” There was pride in her voice as she said this.

__

Lady Nym teased, “And I suppose that you are preparing to be his queen?”

__

Aegon looked at Arya intensely, as if the answer meant something to him.

__

Arya scowled and replied, “I don’t want to be queen. I could never be happy cooped up in some castle, wearing a gown, and being expected to sit around with a bunch of boring ladies, sewing and gossiping every day. I would probably throw myself off a tower or go insane. I want to be free to wear breeches and ride and explore.”

__

Nym noticed that Aegon was obviously disappointed, but he only said, “Come then, let’s continue sparring. At least that is one thing we like to do together.”

__

Arya looked hurt, “There are lots of things I like to do with you!”

__

Aegon just trailed off, “Yeah, well…..,” as he raised his practice sword and went into a defensive stance. Arya did not respond, but only initiated an attack.

__

The Sand Snake watched them spar, repeating motions as two comrades very familiar with each other’s style. _I wonder how this will play out,_ she wondered.

__

After the lesson, Nym had an opportunity to speak informally with Duck. She marveled at how large a man he was. Arya had said that Ser Rolly was almost as large as her father’s bannerman, the Greatjon Umber, the largest man she had ever met. But what most intrigued Nym was his hair. Duck’s head and face were covered with thick red hair. Not auburn red, like the Tullys of the Riverlands, but a bright and garish red. Nym grinned at him and said in a provocative voice, “I wonder, Ser Rolly, if you have hair that red _all_ over your body,” while raking her eyes down his torso and settling on his crotch. “Mayhaps I will sneak up on you sometime while you are sleeping and find out.” Duck grinned back, flashing a mouthful of large white teeth, “Go ahead, I’m easy to find, I guard the prince at night. Mayhaps a surprise will greet you.”

__

Nym returned his smile, “I love surprises,” she said, and thought, _I wonder if he is large all over, too. I look forward to finding out!_

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next – The Council of War – Some plot development is also necessary.
> 
> Lady Nym will explain her perceived promiscuity in Chapter 17.


	10. The Council of War

Connington watched his colleagues and their subordinates gather for the meeting. He was particularly pleased with the way his scheme was progressing, and was in a good mood. The last to arrive and sit at the main table were Aegon, Arya, and Lady Nymeria.

Something caught his eye, and his attention turned to Arya. She looked different – her boots were not muddy and even seemed buffed, her clothes were very clean, her braid was tight and had no twigs in it, and her face looked to have been scrubbed. In fact, her face even had some color to it. Puzzled, Connington looked at Lady Nym and saw the similarity – both had just a touch of red on their lips, kohl on their eyes, and blush on their cheeks. Lady Nym was always beautiful, with or without paint, but Arya now looked a bit older, and it was obvious her features were very pretty. Strangest of all, Arya did not seem to be at all upset that women had been fussing over her grooming.

Lord Connington whispered to the Sand Snake, “What is going on with the girl?”

Nym grinned, “Ashara told Arya that there was no way she was going to attend the war council looking like a dirty child, and that Lord Jon’s reputation depended on her having a neat and tidy appearance. I told her that a woman warrior makes herself attractive as a ruse to mislead opponents.”

Lord Jon replied, “You are very clever to have achieved something even her mother despaired of, and I commend you for helping to make Arya presentable. I suppose that it will still be impossible to get her out of boy’s clothes and laden with weapons?”

Lady Nym smiled, “She fancies herself to be a fierce fighter, and I wouldn’t interfere with that self-image. However, I hope to change her breeches into feminine silks.”

Ser Tristan Rivers, an exile sellsword, complained in a loud voice, “What’s this? Are we to have women and children at this council? Is this to be a festival?”

Jon was patient, “You know that the lady is Nymeria Sand, the representative of our Dornish allies, and of course Prince Aegon should be present, and the child, many of you know as my clever ward, Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell. Lady Stark is here for educational purposes. Someday she will become a learned wife for some fortunate lord.”

Arya shot him a murderous look.

“I fear for that ‘fortunate lord’, Connington.” Gorys Edoryen, the Golden Company paymaster said, “The other day I told her that she would look pretty in a dress, and she snarled, ‘Piss off!’ and her wolf showed me her fangs! I thought I was going to lose my arm!”

The laughter around the table was becoming infectious, but an angry Summer Islander yelled, “A useless little girl should not be at war council! She is not even old enough to fuck!”

Arya, contrary as usual, shouted at the sellsword defiantly, “I’m not useless, and I’ll be old enough to fuck in two years!” The Council burst into laughter again, highly amused.

Jon interjected, “Arya, enough, I fear that Septa Lemore must have another little talk with you.” He turned back to the sellsword, “Actually, the little girl is not as useless as you think. Lady Arya, do you know this man?”

Arya was still looking defiant, “Yes, he is Black Balaq, commander of the Golden Company archers. He is the best bowman in camp, but has terrible luck at dice, and owes Ser Franklin Flowers 500 gold dragons. He favors the camp follower, Yalla, but is still scratching the rash she gave him. He has a birthmark in the shape of a lizard-lion on his ----”

“Enough!” roared Balaq, over the increasing hoots and jeers of his comrades, one shouting, “You tell’em, wolf girl!” “You made your point, Griff,” he growled, using Lord Jon’s sellsword nickname, “I won’t question the child’s value anymore.”

“Smart move,” replied Jon, “She listens and observes, and analyzes, too. Lysono says that she would have a great future if she wanted to be a spy. Arya, stand up and recount the conversation that we had a few weeks ago.”

Arya stood and reported, “I told you that you should take Harrenhal as your base camp. It is easier to protect a castle than scattered tents in the forest. Our advantage is that it is poorly guarded and the soldiers are superstitious and uneasy because Harrenhal is believed to be haunted.”

Connington took up the discussion, “I realized that the girl had given me the makings of a good plan. Taking Harrenhal would send a statement to King’s Landing that we are present and ready to confront their forces. If we capture the castle easily, Robert and Tywin may become nervous and doubt their strength.

He paused and nodded to one advisor at the table, “To that effect, I assigned Lysono Maar, Golden Company’s spymaster, to see if he could infiltrate the castle, and determine the weaknesses, if any.”

Lysono stood up and continued, “Harrenhal needs a constant supply of smallfolk for laborers, so it was easy to plant spies among the workers. My agents confirmed that the permanent inhabitants are on edge and ready to abandon the castle. To encourage their desire to flee, the spies fill the towers with eerie wails and screeches late at night, and melt away before they are discovered. The inhabitants are convinced that the castle houses an army of ghosts, and every soldier has bags under his eyes from lack of sleep.”

Connington resumed talking, “The Commander is Ser Amory Lorch, a Lannister bannerman, a steadfast and determined fighter, but known more for his cruelty than his brains. Our plan is send a small troop of infiltrators through the postern gate in the middle of the night.”

Lysono took up the narrative again, “The invaders will actually be a troupe of mummers, disguised as fiends, specters, and ghouls. They will attack the soldiers abed in their barracks and drive them out of the main gates, which will have been conveniently opened for them previously by my agents. The agents will also be responsible for opening the postern gate on our signal, and for collecting as many weapons as possible from the barracks so most of the fleeing soldiers will be unarmed.”

Connington continued, “Golden Company and Targaryen bannermen will be waiting outside the main gate to take prisoners. If anyone resists, they will receive a knock on the head. We will also be prepared for a sortie by Ser Amory and his knights – I don’t expect them to surrender quietly. This plan will be implemented tomorrow night. Any questions?”

The battle plan was met with general approval, and details were hashed out before Connington adjourned the meeting so final preparations could be completed.

Arya had been privy to the plan and the spymaster’s operations previously, and was almost bored as she listened to it being explained. She decided to test one of Lady Nym’s lessons. As the Sand Snake painted her face prior to the meeting, she told Arya that a warrior woman’s appearance was one of her powers. “All an attractive woman has to do is smile and start a conversation, and most men will let down their guard.”

She observed a young squire standing across the room, a boy having only two more namedays than her. Arya had noticed that the squire always seemed to be loitering around the practice yard when she was water dancing, trying not to appear that he was watching her. She caught his eye and flashed him a broad smile, and then winked. The boy was so startled that his mouth flew open, and he dropped his flagon of cider with a loud clang. A few sellswords turned to look at him, and he blushed in embarrassment. _Lady Nym was right,_ she thought, _I do have power!_ She snickered to herself, _I should try this on Aegon, but that would be cruel. I wager he would be wroth with me._

\---------------------------------------------------------

Bedtime at Ashara’s pavilion was becoming routine, and although Nymeria the direwolf was becoming more and more reluctant to leave Aegon in the evening, eventually she would follow Arya home, yawn loudly, and curl up at the foot of Arya’s bed. Arya noticed that Lady Nym changed into a beautiful linen nightgown, and that she was wrinkling her nose at Arya’s coarse woolen undershirt and smallclothes.

Nym said, “That simply will not do. I will have my handmaiden alter one of my negligées into a proper nightie for you. A warrior woman must be stylish even at night, Arya, sometimes especially at night,” she added with a wink.

But what really intrigued Arya, was how Nym disarmed herself before going to bed. When she stepped out of her silks, she had garters on her thighs and upper arms, and a special sheath between her breasts. They held knives that were hidden when she was clothed. Nym saw the girl staring and told her, “Arya, the greatsword I carry is not my main weapon, although I practice often with it to build my arm strength. My primary skill involves these hidden knives. I have learned to throw them and use them in hand to hand combat accurately and quickly. The surprise factor is very important. I see that you wear a throwing blade on your belt. Would you like me to help you improve your knife skills, also?”

Arya nodded vigorously. She was beginning to appreciate Lady Nym more and more.

When they were snuggled in bed, another habit that she was beginning to enjoy, Arya told her in a hushed voice how she had discomfited the squire. Lady Nym laughed, “You are learning quickly. You are going to be quite dangerous before long, with a long list of conquests by the time you flower. Now it is my turn. When I am home in Dorne, I share my bed with the Fowler twins, Jeyne and Jennelyn. They are my best friends and we whisper secrets at night, also. I miss them sometimes, but you have become a real comfort for me, and I love being abed with you.” Nym kissed her on the lips again, gave her a familiar squeeze, and said goodnight.

Before she fell asleep, Arya thought, _I wish Lady Nym was my real sister instead of Sansa._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What is it about our girl, Arya? Women want to mother her and men want to mentor her. Based on their personalities, in this fic Ashara is the normal, lemon cake baking mom, and Lady Nym is the madcap, sexy, ninja, tween beauty pageant mother.


	11. Prelude to a Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya sets back chivalry by a thousand years.

All of the company that was involved in the attack on Harrenhal had secretly and quietly moved closer in the woods towards the castle. Aegon was to accompany Lord Jon and the leaders of Golden Company. Before leaving base camp, the prince came to Arya, looking awkward but impressive in his junior knight armor, and asked for her favor. Gone was the vision of loveliness from the council meeting. She had been wrestling with Nymeria and climbing trees, and her clothes were muddy, her braid held twigs, and there was a streak of dirt on her cheek. Arya had returned to her normal self.

Arya looked at him with mischief in her eyes, “You mean like at a tourney? Like all that nonsense about ‘queen of love and beauty’? Are you going to bring me a crown of blue roses?” she snickered, “Wait here,” and ran off to Ashara’s pavilion.

Arya was not the type of girl to own headscarves, embroidered handkerchiefs, or colorful hair ribbons. She even secured her braid with only a rough leather cord. She looked at the floor of the tent, saw clothes scattered everywhere, but nothing that interested her. Ashara had scolded her about untidiness, but Arya had spent ten years ignoring her lady mother’s scolding, and had paid no attention. She found the bag of clothing that her father had brought, and way down in the bottom of the bag she recognized an old faded cloth item. It was an ancient set of smallclothes. She pulled them out and inspected them critically. She saw that the cloth was frayed, the laces were broken, and the crotch was almost completely worn through. Arya had no idea why she still possessed them. She buried her face in the smallclothes and sniffed. Running back to find Aegon, she muttered, “At least they smell clean.”

“What is this?” Aegon asked as he curiously examined the crumpled ball of grey cloth she had tossed to him.

“My smallclothes.”

Aegon rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Only you would offer smallclothes as a favor.” Nevertheless, he tied it around the hilt of his sword for good luck. Then Aegon took Arya’s hand and looked intensely into her eyes and said seriously, “My lady, there is a chance that I may not return alive from the battle.”

 _Posh,_ she thought, _Duck and the other knights would never let him come to harm._ Still, he remained staring expectantly at her. Arya considered, _I know what Sansa would do._ She stood up on her tiptoes, gently placed a palm against his cheek, and pressed her lips against his. Aegon was surprised, but returned the chaste kiss, placing a hand lightly on her narrow hip. They silently remained in a partial embrace for almost a minute, and Arya murmured, desperately stifling a giggle as she stroked his peach fuzz, “Stay safe, my prince.”

Aegon pulled away, looking starry-eyed and pleased. Melodramatically, he announced, “Until good fortune allows us to meet again!” and went to find his horse, thinking, _I am a man! My lady kissed me and sent me into battle! I wish there had been tears in her eyes!_

Arya watched him leave, swaying like a drunken sailor, and put her hand to her lips, surprised that she actually got a thrill from kissing Aegon. But then she snickered to herself, _What fun! I can’t wait to tell Sansa that I gave a prince my favor and a kiss and sent him into battle! She is going to be sooo jealous!_

\------------------------------------------

Aegon rode up to travel next to Duck, who was looking at the hilt of his sword. He asked, “So, you received a favor from a lady before going into battle, eh? What is that?”

Aegon had a dreamy look on his face. “Lady Arya’s smallclothes.”

Duck laughed loudly, “Yes, I wager that the wolf girl did not have any embroidered handkerchiefs to give you. But don’t tell Lord Connington. He will be wroth. He thinks you spend too much time with Lady Arya and that she is a bad influence on you.”

Aegon replied stubbornly, “I still want her to be my betrothed.”

Duck smiled at the thought, “The one person who would need convincing is your intended herself. She has made it quite clear that she does not wish to marry.”

Aegon looked smug, “I have been persistent, and Arya is warming up to my intentions. She confessed that she is worried about my safety.”

Duck chuckled, “She probably thinks that you are stupid enough to get knocked on the head. Arya has no confidence in your fighting skills yet.”

Now Aegon looked annoyed, “Then I must prove myself in battle for her, and she will admire me!”

“Like I said, don’t do anything stupid. You will only convince her that she was right.”

\------------------------------------------

Connington had given Arya strict orders to stay in camp, but she was used to ignoring such orders, and would not have missed the battle for the world. After tying Nymeria to a pole of Ashara’s pavilion, Arya went to see Lady Nym, who was in the tent that had had been erected for her and her traveling companions, preparing for departure. Nym had decided that she preferred Arya as her bedmaid, and slept in her bed, but her companions, two Dornish ladies and three handmaidens, occupied the guest pavilion.

The Sand Snake smiled at Arya and said, “Of course you may travel with us, but you will have to wear a disguise. You can wear the silk robes of one of our younger handmaidens, including silk smallclothes. You will feel more womanly in Dornish clothing. Outdoors, we will wear silk scarves around our heads, so you will not be recognized.”

Arya noticed that the other Dornish ladies were also beautiful and had lovely silk robes, but they wore shortswords and daggers in their belts, and their stern faces as they fingered their weapons told Arya that they knew how to use steel. Arya thought, _they are warrior women, also! I love Dorne!_

\--------------------------------------

The groups of riders assembled for the journey. Lady Nym arranged for her personal handmaiden to look after Nymeria, and Arya borrowed the girl’s sand steed. After a few minutes on horseback, she considered, _this horse is so beautiful, and rides so smoothly! I wish that I owned a sand steed!_

Nym looked over at the group of knights that included Lord Connington and the prince. She remarked, “Aegon appears to have a favor tied around the hilt of his sword.” She turned to Arya and said with a sly smile, “I wonder whose it is.”

Arya replied indifferently, “The favor is my smallclothes.”

Lady Nym’s eyes went wide and she looked at the girl shrewdly, “Wait, how old are you again?”

She told Nym proudly, “My ten and first nameday will arrive next week.”

Nymeria shook her head in awe, “It seems you can teach me a thing or two about womanly wiles”. Then she grinned wickedly, “Before the next battle, if the prince asks for another favor, give him those silk ones.” The Sand Snake laughed at her own jape, “Ha! He will insist that Lord Connington arrange a betrothal to you on the spot!”

Arya appeared not to appreciate the jape. She pouted, “But I don’t want to marry anyone!”

Lady Nym replied, “I know that, sweetling, but playing with a man’s affection is so much fun. There is no better game in the world! I think you will like it better than cyvasse.” She reflected on Arya’s story of teasing the squire, “And from what I have heard, you are a better player than you realize.”

Nym saw that the knights had increased their speed. “Let us hurry now,” she added, “We have a long journey,” and put her heels to her horse’s flanks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had this chapter planned for more than a week and couldn’t wait to post it. Please tell me what you think.
> 
> That the crotch of the smallclothes were almost completely rotted through makes the gesture unintentionally more personal, and Aegon realizes it.


	12. Attack on Harrenhal

The attack on Harrenhal was about to begin. As the army converged at the edge of the forest, Connington had his troops wear dark cloaks over their armor so they would appear invisible. Torches would be lit within the castle courtyard at the proper time to enable them to see the escaping Lannister soldiers.

The signal was given – a lantern blinking three times from the forest - and the postern gate quietly opened. The mummers stole inside. Some time went by and shrieks and the sound of fear were heard within. The main gates opened, and panic-stricken soldiers, many in pajamas or partially clothed, came racing out. They were immediately taken into custody and bound with ropes. Some resisted and were maimed before being bound up. Some were well-armed and persisted in fighting and had to be killed.

Brave Lannister bowmen appeared upon the battlements, peering into the inky darkness below for targets, but Black Balaq’s archers took them out before they could notch an arrow.

Suddenly Lord Amory Lorch and about fifty armored knights charged out of the gate, making a futile attack. They had no intention of surrendering quietly.

Connington, Golden Company, and Targaryen bannermen met their charge, engaging the knights. Lady Nym also rushed to engage, and Lord Jon saw out of the corner of his eye how the Dornish warrior women fought. They wore no armor, but their sand steeds were swift and agile, maneuvering around the huge, clumsy destriers that the knights rode. Connington thought, _If a blade strikes them, they are doomed._

However, the Sand Snake and her companions pranced nimbly outside the range of the swords that threatened them. Connington noticed that Lady Nym has not brought forth her greatsword, but her hands are moving with blurring speed, and as he watched, a knife appears in one knight’s eye and another in his neck. The knight fell off his horse, dead. Her two companions were just as graceful, dodging swords, countering blows with their shortswords, and when the opportunity arose, they would send a dagger into an eye or elbow joint. All three Dornish women were deadly, and once again, Jon was glad that they were on his side.

Lady Nym had seen Ser Amory’s desperate attack, and said to Arya, “Wait here, you are not skilled enough yet to engage an armored knight on horseback,” and galloped into the fray with her companions. Contrary as usual, Arya did not stay put, but followed behind the Sand Snake at some distance away.

Connington heard a shout, “Arya, go back!” and wondered, _Arya? She should not be here! What is going on?!_

Arya had been watching the conflict, and noticed that a horse, a powerful destrier, had lost its rider and been struck by a wayward arrow. The frightened animal was galloping right towards Aegon from an unobserved angle, and was going to barrel into the prince. Arya spurred her horse into action. She knew that she could catch up quickly, but the little sand steed could do little to divert the huge destrier. All three horses converged at the same time, and Arya’s impact was enough to prevent the runaway from hurting Aegon. However, Arya was thrown from her horse by the force of the collision, and hit the ground hard on her left leg.

Lady Nym had seen what had happened, and her shout alerted Connington and Aegon to Arya’s plight. As soon as the danger was past, and the knights dealt with, Aegon rushed over to her. There was panic in his voice, “Arya, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. Just a little bruise. But how is my horse?” She was more concerned about the horse than herself. The sand steed was standing nearby, dazed but unhurt, Arya was relieved to see.

Aegon was still upset, “You put yourself in terrible danger to protect me! You shouldn’t have done that!”

Arya just looked impatient, “It’s not the first time I have fallen off a horse, stupid! I’ll be alright.” However, when she tried to stand up, she found that she could not.

Lady Nym arrived with her companions, their silks covered in blood, but unhurt. “We’d best be getting her back to camp to see the maester,” she said and helped Arya back onto her sand steed. Nym wanted to escape before Connington, who was glaring at her, could scold her for bringing Arya to the battle.

The attack was a major success. The Targaryen forces had suffered very few casualties, and had captured a large number of Lannister soldiers, including Lorch and several valuable knights, who could later be exchanged for ransom.

\------------------------------------------

Back in camp, Aegon hurried to visit Arya in Ashara’s pavilion, concerned about the wound she took to protect him. The maester had said that there were no broken bones, only muscle damage, and he left pain-relieving poultices. Ashara was applying the poultices to her bare leg when Aegon arrived. With a worried look, he stroked the flesh near the discolored skin, and said with some emotion, “I am sorry for your injury, and I am in debt to you for coming to my aid.”

Although grimacing from the pain, Arya replied, “It was nothing. You would have done the same for me. I’ll be fine.”

Nym saw that Arya’s silk robe had been thrown aside, and part of the lace border of her linen smallclothes was visible. “Cousin Aegon” she asked sweetly, “I understand that you are becoming an expert on Lady Arya’s selection of smallclothes, or….” She grinned at him, “or lack of smallclothes. What do you think of her new lacy underclothing? Do you approve?”

Aegon turned as red as a ripe apple, and muttered, “I fear that it is beginning to get too warm in this tent for me, I beg your permission to depart,” and he abruptly left.

\----------------------------------------------------------

A few days after the battle, Golden Company had moved into the castle and made it their home. Lord Connington announced that it was time to celebrate their victory. The main hall was cleaned up, and in a show of extravagance, fires were lit in all 35 fireplaces. Food was served and the wine was flowing; musicians played and sang.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: The party gets interesting in the next chapter


	13. Celebration

Previously:

A few days after the battle, Golden Company had moved into the castle and made it their home. Lord Connington announced that it was time to celebrate their victory. The main hall was cleaned up, and in a show of extravagance, fires were lit in all 35 fireplaces. Food was served and the wine was flowing; musicians played and sang.

Chapter 13 Celebration

The ladies were seated at a main table, and it appeared as though Arya was holding court. Men were coming up to her to kiss her hand and to praise her for the suggestions that led to a fairly bloodless conquest, and for saving the prince’s life. Lysono gave her a special coin, and proclaimed her an honorary member of Golden Company.

Jon looked closely, and observed that Arya was still wearing Dornish silk robes, as her leg was still too sore to suffer breeches. Her brown hair was loose and Ashara had brushed it to a shining glow, reaching more than halfway down her back. Nym had subtlety added colors to her features, and Arya smiled pleasantly at all who approached, enjoying the flattery. After being criticized through most of her childhood for failing to be ladylike, she welcomed the praise for thriving in a male world. Her mother and her septa, Sansa and Jeyne, all four had made her feel like a freak, but Lady Nym had showed her that she could be feminine as well as a warrior, and she was becoming comfortable with her life in camp. Arya was even beginning to like the silks that Lady Nym had provided, and that was a big change for her.

Aegon was sitting next to Jon, speaking with Targaryen bannermen, but the prince kept stealing glances over at Arya. Connington could not blame the lad. He remembered Lyanna Stark at age six and ten, and it was already obvious that Arya was going to be as attractive as her aunt. _Ned Stark will be fending off suitors constantly,_ Jon thought.

Connington sighed inwardly at the thought that many would only value her as a mother for their babes and a link to the Great House of the North. Few would appreciate her for her intelligence and vitality. Lord Jon had come to respect her cleverness, and her observational and analytical skills. _At her tender age, she has the qualities of a good advisor,_ he pondered, _she would be an asset to my staff._

Jon remembered that after Arya had been in camp for two weeks, Homeless Harry Strickland, the captain-general of Golden Company, had come to him to discuss the girl. The captain-general was fourth generation Golden Company, had been the paymaster first, and was not really a soldier. Homeless Harry was overweight and had bad feet, and was more skilled with sums rather than swords. He liked playing cyvasse with Arya and talking with her and professed that she could probably plan battles as well as the Company’s leaders.

Arya had shown him her calculations of the camp supplies. He was impressed, and noted how close they came to his more detailed accounts, and japed that she would be a fine assistant. “Connington, the girl should be on our payroll, she is that clever.” He added, almost embarrassed, that for his tastes, he had never met such a perfect female, and if she were older and not a member of a Great House, he would woo her himself.

Jon had snorted at the time. _Is there anyone here who is not infatuated with the wolf girl?!_ But then he frowned, thinking of Aegon. _He is the only one I need to be concerned about._

While Jon was reflecting, Gorys Edoryen, the Golden Company paymaster approached and told Jon that his aides had discovered the castle treasury. He turned to Aegon, “Come, my prince, we have work to do. Mayhaps your wealth has increased.”

\----------------------------------------

Meanwhile the feast continued. Everyone was in a good mood, and all were drinking wine, toasting the victory. Lady Nym had been secretly sneaking wine to Arya. Several men asked Arya to dance, but her leg hurt too much to even consider the thought. Nym and her ladies were constantly twirling around the floor, and having a fabulous time.

As the evening wore on, Arya was getting a little drunk, and when Bokko approached, she thought he wanted to kiss her hand, too. Instead, she giggled when he hauled her up out of her seat and kissed her face, grazing her lips with his tongue, and squeezing her bottom at the same time. He whispered into her ear, his hot breath giving her a strange feeling, “Lady wolf, you have the cutest little arse, and I cannot resist fondling it.”

He released her then, and she plopped down into her chair again, her head spinning, and still giggling.

The squire that she had teased came over and timidly asked to kiss her hand, but as he was about to introduce himself, she boldly grabbed his tunic and pulled him in for a kiss on the lips and a squeeze of _his_ arse. The boy simply melted in front of her.

Arya heard a loud, angry woman’s voice and a hand yanked her roughly to her feet. The squire fled quickly. Ashara was scolding her, “Arya, that is quite enough! You are drunk and your behavior is completely wanton! We are leaving right now!” She started to drag Arya away, but saw that Arya was still clutching a goblet of wine. Ashara grabbed the goblet and threw it carelessly on a table, saying, “And you have had enough of that, too!”

Turning to her side, Ashara addressed her neighbor, “Lady Nym, how could you let this happen?” But Nym had her tongue down Bokko’s throat now and his hands were busy inside her silks. Ashara huffed, shook her head and said to Arya, “This is no place for you, young lady! You already have too many improper ideas!” Ashara was frantic. _And I thought Ned was exaggerating when he told me how troublesome this child could be! If she is still in my care when she flowers, I am going to have to lock her away! I fear that she will become as promiscuous as Lady Nymeria! What am I to do with her?!_ She rushed the wobbly girl out of the hall and half carried her to their new quarters. _I hope Lord Jon does not hear for this escapade!_ And then, embarrassed, she also thought, _What would I say to her father?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So they had a party, and got a little tipsy, and inhibitions were thrown to the wind. What can I say? I hope no one was offended. Arya will have to pay for her immodest behavior in the next chapter.
> 
> Lady Nym has been a bit raunchy lately, and she is in my ear, telling me that she admires Cindy Lauper – “Girls just wanna have fu-un!”


	14. Punishment for Having a Good Time

The next morning Arya appeared a ghastly pale color, and was violently sick. There was a pounding behind her temples, and her throat was dry. Nymeria the direwolf was lying at her feet, whining softly. Lady Nym, however, was disgustingly cheerful. “Not to worry, Arya,” Nym told the suffering girl, “you will eventually get used to celebrating with wine.”

Ashara was tending to Arya with a wet compress to her forehead, looked completely put out at that remark, and growled, “I certainly hope not!” With an angry expression, Ashara accused the Sand Snake, “This is all your fault! Tarting the girl up so men will ply her with wine, kiss her, and flatter her!”

Nym blandly replied, “Actually, it was me plying her with wine. Arya stated that she admired the courtesans of Braavos, so I wanted her to have an idea of the experience. Now she will know the power of wine. That is a good thing for a young person to learn.”

“But look at the result! And her honor was in danger, also!” Ashara retorted.

“You worry too much, Ashara, I was watching – I would not have let anyone try to fuck her.”

Ashara just glared at the smirking Sand Snake, “You….you…..hussy!”

Arya, bleary-eyed and nauseous, was trying to recall the events of the last evening. All of a sudden it hit her, and with panic in her voice, she said, “Lady Nym, I just remembered that I kissed a boy, and I didn’t even know his name!

“For true?” Nym laughed, “Now that indicates that you _really_ had a good time! Congratulations!”

Arya did not think that it indicated anything of the sort, and asked her sourly, “Why are _you_ so happy?”

Lady Nym said, “Well, I discovered that Bokko has unusual stamina, for I tried my best to wear him out, and it was a difficult task. In fact it took most of the night, and I am actually sore from all that riding.”

Arya’s head hurt too much to make any sense of what Nym had said, and Ashara was glaring at the grinning Sand Snake.

Nym had been spooning a mixture of herbs out of large bag and added the spoonful to a cup of steaming water. She stirred the concoction, waited a few minutes, then took a sip and grimaced, but slowly finished drinking the cup. Ashara watched her with raised eyebrows. Nym told her, “You know what this special tea is, but we won’t explain it to the girl for a while.”

Ashara responded with a threat in her voice, “And she better not need it for a long time!”

Upon receiving word that Arya was ill, Aegon came to visit, wearing a very sympathetic expression on his face. Nymeria the direwolf got up and rubbed against his leg. Arya, still semi-delirious and confused by the arguing women, saw Aegon’s concern, and pulled him into a tight and tearful embrace, laying her face on his chest, while hiccupping, sobbing, and moaning, “Oh Aegon! You are my one true friend! Please don’t chastise me or laugh at me! I know that I can trust you!”

Aegon was overcome with emotion, and confessed, “Dear Lady Arya, I would do anything for you, just tell me what you need!”

Arya, looking at him wide-eyed and with puffy lips, replied, “Aegon…..oh, Aegon! Fetch me that chamber pot! Quick!” He hurried to do so, and Arya, grabbed the bowl, emitted a horrible retching sound and got sick again in front of him.

Nym was watching the whole exchange, and immediately burst into laughter, saying, “How romantic!”

Ashara could not take Nym’s impertinence anymore, and smacked her across the back of her head with the nearest object, which happened to be a hairbrush, while shouting, “It’s not funny! The poor girl is suffering!”

Nym rubbed her head but continued to laugh, “Nae, she is creating memories! Aegon, if you are a real man, you would embrace her and tell her everything will be all right!”

Aegon was appalled by Arya’s appearance – the berry juice from her lips was smeared all around her mouth, the kohl from her eyes had run down her cheeks, and her hair was wild. At first he had a horrified expression on his face, but now he merely just looked doubtfully at his cousin Nym.

Nym continued to amuse only herself, “Come on, Aegon, she needs you now! Prove that you love her!”

Ashara muttered, “I have to agree, the child needs sympathy more than anything right now.”

Aegon embraced her gingerly, clearly uncomfortable. He patted her on the back, repeating, “There, there, sweet girl, everything will be all right.”

Arya looked up at him with a trusting, wide-eyed gaze, and as he stared into those expressive grey irises that drove him crazy, she weakly asked, “Will it really?” then sighed, and promptly passed out, her mouth wide open, and snoring loudly.

Nym chuckled, “See, Aegon, won’t she make a lovely bride?”

Ashara, still angry with Nym, said, “One more crack out of you, and I’ll hit you again!”

Aegon eased the she wolf down on her bed, and said, “Well, ladies, it appears that Arya has fallen into a peaceful sleep. I should take my leave now,” and raced away as fast as his legs would take him. _I’d rather face the Others than go through that again!_ Before coming to see Arya, he had been composing a poem in his head, a tribute to her beauty. But after the horrifying vision in her room, all thoughts of poetry had fled. He thought, _Mayhaps I should take up my harp and write a dirge, an ode to loss of innocence. Now I feel ill, look what she did to my clothes!_ Unlike Arya, who could pick up a tunic from the floor and sniff it to see if it was somewhat acceptable, Aegon was most fastidious, and preferred fresh clothing. His white tunic was now streaked with tears, snot, berry juice, kohl, and even spit-up. He felt nauseated, and moaned, "This will never be clean again!” Before he had visited her, he had been in a romantic mood, but now he was repulsed. _What do I see in her?!_ He asked himself in frustration, but then he thought of that swinging braid and those deep grey eyes and knew.

\-----------------------------------------

Arya woke up later with a fog in her head, aware of a dimly heard argument in the room.

“Come on, Ashara, don’t be angry with me because I was so well fucked last night. I think you would appreciate some male attention yourself!”

“What are you talking about?” There was surprise in Ashara's voice.

“I saw you with Lord Stark just before he left. You were trying to climb into his lap while he was standing up! I must admit, he seems quite virile for a middle-aged man, and I could imagine that a roll in the sack with him might please me, too.”

Ashara sounded shocked. “Well, I never! Such impertinent talk!”

“Please, if he had been willing, you would have spread your legs for him right then and there!”

“Lady Nym, you are speaking vilely about a married man!”

“But admit it, he is also the object of your desires. I could see that.”

Arya’s mind was becoming clearer. _Why are they talking about Father?_

Ashara sighed, “It’s not Ned Stark I wanted, but his brother. I did love him so long ago, and Ned reminds me of Brandon.”

Nym chuckled, “Well, when Lord Stark returns, I’ll attempt to get you two together alone, and mayhaps you can relive your memories.”

Arya thought, _Mother would not like to hear them talking about Father like that. It is grown-up talk, but I wonder if I should do something?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That last part was a tease. Would Ashara really hook up with Ned? Would Ned break his vows? We shall see......
> 
>  _There is nothing in the world so irresistibly contagious as laughter and good humor._ Charles Dickens


	15. Nameday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Consider this a short, romantic interlude before the tale turns to Ned Stark’s more serious adventures in King’s Landing.

Arya hated to appear a weakling, so after a few days, she felt that her leg had healed enough to resume training. She donned her breeches, and returned to the training yard to practice water dancing with Bokko. When she first saw him, she blushed, recalling their intimate encounter at the celebration. She lowered her eyes and acted shy before him. Bokko realized what she was thinking and said, “Do not dwell on that night, Lady Arya, my inappropriate attention to you should be considered a ‘party foul’, and I promise that it will not happen again.” But his eyes twinkled, “Unless we happen to succumb to the power of wine.”

Arya made a sour face, “There is no chance of that happening. Septa Lemore was very angry with me and said that she will not let me touch wine until I am a woman grown. She warned me that she is going to keep a very close watch on me until then.”

Bokko smiled, “Well then, I shall look forward to your attaining maturity, but right now let us see if you accumulated any rust during your convalescence,” as he tossed a practice sword to her and assumed a defensive stance.

\----------------------------------------

Arya’s ten and first nameday arrived with a package from her father, a wooden box filled with candied ginger. She tasted the rare sweet and was delighted. _I would send Father a thank you note, but a raven from Harrenhal might be considered suspicious right now._

Lady Nym gave her a unique bracelet, a spiral of gold to wrap around her upper arm, in the shape of a snake, a pointed tail at one end, and with a viper’s head and extended tongue at the other. “My father gave me one like this when I was your age.”

Arya enthusiastically wrapped the shining metal around her arm and hugged Nym, “Now I am a real Sand Snake!”

Nym kissed the top of her head and gave her a squeeze. “When you come to Dorne, you will be welcomed as a sister.”

As Arya was enjoying her candied ginger and admiring her new arm band, her first real piece of jewelry, she noticed the squire approaching. She tried not to blush, thinking how she had attacked him at the celebration. He was holding a bouquet of blue roses. As he got closer, she gave him a real inspection for the first time and saw that he was taller than her, but not as tall as Aegon. His face was pleasant, but even though he had about two more namedays than her, he looked as youthful as she did. Aegon at least had some peach fuzz, but this boy’s cheeks were perfectly smooth. The squire bowed formally and stiffly, and offered her the roses, kissed her hand, and looked yearningly into her eyes.

“Happy nameday, Lady Arya, I regret that I have not had the opportunity to introduce myself previously, especially since you appeared to be eager to make my acquaintance at the victory celebration.”

Arya studied his face and inwardly groaned, _I am never going to stop paying for my behavior at that party! I am so embarrassed!_

The squire continued, “I am Adrian of House Byrch, and my home is here in the Crownlands. Lady Arya, I think that you are beautiful and clever and as graceful as a deer when you water dance. Over the last two weeks, I have felt a bond growing between us, and I think that we could have a love as strong as that of Florian and Jonquil. I have written my father, Ser Balman Byrch, and asked him to address your father and request that we become betrothed. I promise that I will make you the happiest woman in Westeros.”

Arya was desperately trying to suppress a giggle without biting her lip. _There are stars in his eyes! Seven hells, where is Sansa when I need her!?_ She took a deep breath, and imagined how Lady Nym would handle this unwanted confession of affection without insulting the serious boy. She responded, “Squire Adrian, I am flattered by your proposal, but I only have ten and one namedays, and my father has stated that he will not wed his daughters until they have at least fourteen. He also does not believe in hasty engagements. There is a war to be fought, so our parents may not want to discuss betrothals until there is peace in the land again.” She smiled sweetly at him as she imagined Sansa would have, and hoped that he realized that she was dismissing him. He did, and bowed again, “My lady’s wish is my command. You will always be in my thoughts and heart,” and slowly walked away. _Bother,_ Arya reflected, _that was close! Lady Nym taught me how to attract men, but she told me nothing about deflecting unwelcome attention!_

Now Arya saw Aegon approaching, with a very serious look on _his_ face, and she studied _him_ carefully now, wondering what was on his mind. _It is like a parade of suitors! I wish I could disappear!_

Aegon saw that she was sucking on a piece of candy and staring at him with her large grey eyes that always seemed to unnerve him. “What is that?” he asked.

“Candied ginger.”

“Oh! That is my favorite sweet. I haven’t had any since leaving Essos. Can I please have some?”

She silently passed him the box, still staring at him with an inquiring expression. _When his mustache comes in, it will be too pale to see._ Aegon selected a piece from the box, but before tasting it, he stroked her cheek and said, “You have the most beautiful eyes.”

Arya immediately blushed, “Stop that! You make me feel weird, all soft inside. I can’t be a fierce warrior woman when you talk like that. I have no armor against your words. I have to ask Lady Nym about these feelings.”

Aegon’s chest swelled, _I am winning this battle!_ He said, “I have a gift for you,” and showed her a fine golden necklace with a single small garnet. “This stone represents the words of my House, ‘Fire and Blood’.”

She admired the jewel and the delicate chain. No one had ever offered her such an elegant object, and she was still excited about her new upper arm band.

Aegon continued, while retaining his somber visage, “I know that, regardless of the success or failure of my cause, we may go our own separate ways soon, and I hope that this garnet will remind you of me while we are apart. Turn around and I will fasten it around your neck.” She did so, and felt him gently moving her braid to the side, and was sure he kissed it and stroked the rough leather cord she used to bind the end. He thought, _she is so unlike other girls, and so unique._

Arya realized how serious Aegon was and how romantic he was trying to be. She turned around to face him, and decided to play along with his mood. She gave him a tight hug, and leaned up to give him an open mouth kiss like Mother and Father shared when they thought no one was watching. Aegon was startled at first, but returned the gesture, and their tongues danced for a few minutes. Arya gently broke the bond, and they looked intensely at each other, breathing a little heavier than usual. Aegon didn’t say another word, but appeared dazed as he wandered away. Arya put her hand to her lips, and realized that she had the most peculiar feeling she had ever experienced.

Lady Nym, as usual, had not missed a detail of the encounter. She spoke without any sign of japing, “Well, you own him now. Whether you want him or not, he is yours. Lord Jon would be very frustrated if he had seen the two of you just then. Arya, what _do_ you want from Aegon?”

Arya’s features were twisted in frustration and she bit her lip, “I don’t know! He is so different from my brothers, but I like him just as much. I want to be his friend forever, but I don’t want to be a wife! Ooooh! This is very hard!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will be more to this serious conversation, but I want to let it simmer for a while.


	16. King's Landing

Lord Stark and Jory finally arrived in King’s Landing and rode into the Red Keep. After bringing their horses to the stable and seeing to the grooming, Ned was curious to talk to his retainers and learn what had happened at court during his absence. Sansa and Jeyne were in their bath, being attended to by handmaidens, so Ned was able to have a private conversation with Desmond, Sansa’s shield, and Septa Mordane. Both looked uncomfortable when they entered his chambers.

Desmond said, “Milord, I have attended Lady Sansa in the presence of the royal family, and I do not like what I see. Prince Joffrey is supposed to be betrothed to Lady Sansa, and yet he treats her cruelly. He grips her arm too tightly, and leaves bruises. He apologizes afterwards, but only when Lady Sansa or Septa Mordane complains, but it seems to me that he does it on purpose. There is something wrong with Prince Joffrey, as he is intentionally cruel and mean. He will often say things to Lady Sansa just to make her cry, such as describing how her direwolf, Lady, was killed, and how he is going to have Lady Arya maimed when she is brought to court. He killed Prince Tommen’s three kittens by stabbing them repeatedly with a dagger just to bring him to tears, and then taunted him for being a crybaby.”

Ned looked worried, and nodded for Desmond to continue, “The worst part is that the mother, Queen Cersei, pretends not to see that Prince Joffrey is a vicious, dangerous, ill-tempered youth, and dismisses any suggestion that his behavior is unusual. The Queen, herself, even continues to state that she will put Lady Arya's head on a spike for hurting her son. The King stays drunk to avoid taking charge of the situation.”

Septa Mordane nodded in agreement with Desmond, adding, “Milord, we dare not interfere, as it is not our place to challenge the royal family, and we only expose Lady Sansa to this cruelty because Queen Cersei insists on her presence.”

Lord Stark dismissed them, sending them back to their duties, and thought, _it is worse than I imagined, the Lannisters are out of control!_

Jory had talked to his sergeants, and came to give his report. “Milord, all our soldiers are uneasy, as we are obviously unwelcome by the Redcloaks and Goldcloaks. They outnumber us and would be happy to find a pretext by which to start hostilities.”

Ned said to him, “Tell the men to do everything they can to prevent a fight from breaking out. Do not mingle or spar with the castle troops. Conflict would only go ill for us, and give the Queen something else to complain about.”

\--------------------------------------------

Later, when Ned was alone in his chamber, his steward, Vayon Poole, entered and said that there was a man outside who wished to speak to him, but refused to give his name. Ned nodded, and a stout man entered. He wore muddy boots, and a heavy brown cloak with a hood pulled over head, hiding his face.

“Who are you?” Ned said, warily, not trusting the man.

“A friend, Lord Stark,” he replied. “We must speak alone.”

Ned motioned for Poole to leave.

The mysterious stranger removed his disguise, revealing a plump, bald man. “Lord Stark,” he said, “I am Lord Varys, one of your councilors. Queen Cersei has her spies everywhere, and I don’t want her to know that we are having this conversation. Don’t be surprised. The Lannisters do not trust you, and are watching you closely. May I trouble you for a goblet of wine?”

The Hand was startled at first, but he recalled that Jon Arryn had written him about Varys, the ‘Master of Whisperers’, that no secret was safe from him, and that he was also known as ‘The Spider’ for the webs of political intrigue he weaved.

Ned poured the wine and offered Varys a seat.

“Thank you,” Varys said, “My lord, I have been watching you also, and have learned that you are an unusual man, in that you do not seek to increase your personal power here in King’s Landing, and are even here reluctantly. That makes you one of the few honest men in the Keep. Thus, you are also a dangerous man.”

Lord Stark growled, “I only agreed to be King Robert’s Hand because he is my oldest friend and claimed he needed my help. I never wanted to leave the North.”

“Yes, since you have no ulterior motives for being here, you are a threat to those who want wealth and power. I want to warn you to be very careful, for your life is in danger. The king is a fool, and Westeros is in trouble.”

Varys stretched his legs out and appeared to relax a bit after giving Ned the warning. He smiled softly and his tone changed. “After that incident at the river with Prince Joffrey and your daughters, I was very curious as to the result. Officially, your younger daughter, and her pet direwolf, is missing and presumed dead. Rumors fly around the Keep about how a child with less than ten name days bested the prince, much to the Queen’s chagrin. Yet, my ‘little birds’ tell me that Lady Arya has been seen in Prince Aegon Targaryen’s camp, where she seems to be most welcome, and has become the Prince’s best friend. Interesting, no?”

Ned just stared at the spymaster, but said nothing.

Varys continued, “Lord Stark, I also know that you met secretly with Lord Connington, and had the opportunity to retrieve your daughter, yet you deigned to leave her among the dragons. And you have not informed the King or Queen of your visit.” Varys seemed to be amused as he continued, “I have also learned that Prince Aegon is so taken by this girl child that he wants to marry her. Almost killing one prince, seducing another - I cannot wait to meet this young assassin and temptress. She must be a fascinating person. Are you considering a Stark-Targaryen union? The Lannisters would not be pleased.”

Lord Stark was very uncomfortable, “No that is the furthest thing from my mind. However, you are certainly aware of Queen’s Cersei’s disposition toward my younger daughter, and I deemed it safer to keep Arya away from King’s Landing. Do you intend to tell the Queen about my visit to the Targaryen camp?”

The Spider smiled again, “No, that would not suit my purposes at this time.”

Ned asked him, “Then who do you serve?”

“I serve the realm, not kings.” Varys replied, “I do what I think is best for Westeros, not whomever sits the Iron Throne at any given moment. And considering the way King Robert is behaving, he won’t sit it long. Lord Stark, the king is in danger. Queen Cersei is hungry for power, and will stop at nothing to put her son Joffrey on the Iron Throne. Tywin Lannister wants to become Hand and to have power over all of Westeros.” He paused to let this sink in.

“The wheels have already have been set in motion. The Queen dismissed Barristan Selmy, the venerable Lord Commander of the Kingsguard from his post, in favor of her brother Jaime. Queen Cersei even insulted Ser Barristan, telling him that he was too old for the job, and was useless. When told that she was breaking a time-honored tradition, she dismissed the idea with a wave of the hand. This change of leadership does not bode well for King Robert. Ser Barristan would protect the king with his life, but I doubt that Jaime Lannister would even lift a finger to help Robert.”

Ned frowned. He had disliked political intrigue throughout his whole life, and would rather be on a battlefield defending himself with a sword, than worrying about a stab in the back from a courtier.

“One last item for you to consider, my lord: Jon Arryn served as Hand for four and ten mostly peaceable years, yet he died suddenly while in supposed good health, and his wife fled immediately. Rumors say that she suspected that he was poisoned and wanted to save her own life and that of their young son.”

“What do you think?” the new Hand asked.

“My sources say that Lady Arryn is right, and there are those in the Red Keep who wanted him dead. The question is: Why now?”

“What was Lord Arryn doing before he died?”

The Spider smiled sardonically, “Asking questions.”

\-------------------------------------------

After a few days in the Keep, Ned called the members of the Small Council to his first meeting. Looking around the council chamber he thought that he had never seen a more incompetent leadership group in his life. The Master of Coin was Petyr Baelish, a lord of a very minor house in the Vale, derisively called ‘Littlefinger’, a whoremaster who was mainly interested in acquiring personal wealth. Ned had already met Lord Varys, who was really a lord in title only. Varys was the Master of Whisperers, and Ned did not know if he could trust the man or not. There was Grand Maester Pycelle, once a brilliant councilor, but now an elderly dotard, senile, sleepy, and useless. _He’s not going to be any help,_ Ned thought.

The Master of Ships was Lord Renly Baratheon, youngest brother of the king, who japed constantly, and never took his responsibility as a councilor seriously. In fact, Renly was a poor choice for his role, as he got seasick on any of the infrequent occasions he could be persuaded to climb aboard a ship. Stannis Baratheon, the younger brother of the king, a sour and humorless man, was Master of Law. Lord Stannis was disinclined to attend meetings, and hid himself away with his family on the somber island of Dragonstone, the late home of the Targaryens. The last member of the council was Ser Barristan Selmy, the recent Lord Commander of Kingsguard, who would have attended to protect the king. However, Renly japed that King Robert found politics boring, and never attended Small Council meetings anyway. After being dismissed by the Queen, Ser Barristan had disappeared.

The Lord Hand convened the meeting. There were many issues waiting for attention, but Ned was tired and wanted to only discuss the main topic – the invasion of Aegon VI Targaryen and his Golden Company of sellswords. Ned had informed King Robert that the Targaryen force had not moved, but was consolidating its power base. Robert was moody and despondent. He hated all Targaryens and muttered between gulps of wine, “I want them all dead. Why could we have not cleaned out all the dragonspawn when we had a chance?” He was drunk most of the time, and was of no use to his Hand.

“My lords,” he began, “As you know, the Targaryen army has landed in the Riverlands. Prince Aegon is only a lad, but his Hand, Lord Jon Connington, is an old and wise campaigner. At the moment he is assessing his strength, and Golden Company remains in camp a distance from Maidenpool. I suggest that we assess _our_ forces before hostilities begin.”

Lord Varys spoke up, “It will be easy to count our allies. Obviously, the Westerlands, the Reach, and the Stormlands are ours. Lords of the Crownlands are declaring for Aegon. House Martell counts him as kinfolk, and Dorne is already marching north. The Vale of Arryn is the home of our late Hand, and Lady Arryn has been non-committal. The Riverlands have also not declared, and the Tully’s are most vulnerable to attack at this moment. That leaves the Iron Islands and our largest kingdom, the North. What say you, Lord Stark?”

Ned knew that he was in a difficult position, and tried to be vague. “The Iron Islands are always rebellious, and at any sign of weakness, would invade the Westerlands and the Riverlands for reaving. Balon Greyjoy cannot be depended on to fight the Targaryens. His son is my ward, and that alone may keep him from attacking other Houses. The North has always supported the Iron Throne; however, my bannermen would demand a meeting of all the Houses before declaring their support.”

Littlefinger slyly asked, “But Lord Hand, you represent the Great House of the North. Surely you can affirm that your kingdom will support King Robert unequivocally right here and now?

Ned was very uncomfortable, “I could, but the lords of the North are traditionally very independent, and even if they agreed, they would resent my speaking for them without consultation.”

Littlefinger sneered, “Are you sure that you control the North?”

Ned bristled, “Northerners are a deliberate, thoughtful people, and not toadies to grasp a popular idea at a moment’s notice! Enough of this squabbling, we have work to do! We must contact our known allies, assess our strength, and prepare for war.”

Littlefinger had the final word on that matter, “And I hope that we can count the North as an ally, since its leader is the Hand of the King.”

Totally exhausted and with his head spinning from all the intrigue, Ned was finally able to adjourn the meeting after laying a defensive strategy, and retreated to the Hand’s solar. He had not yet had an opportunity to inspect his office. Nothing had been touched since the last time that Lord Arryn had used it. Ned noticed an amazingly thick book on the table. He inspected it and saw that it was important – the Book of Westeros’ Houses, enumerating the characteristics of all the Families of the land. Arryn had left the book open to the Baratheon pages. There was also a slip of parchment with writing in Arryn’s hand beside the book. It read ‘The seed is strong’ and listed the Baratheon physical characteristics - tall, robust, blue eyes, black hair. Ned remembered that Robert’s first bastard, fathered in the Vale when he was a mere lad, was a daughter named Mya, who perfectly fit this description. His mind wandered to Cersei’s children, especially that monster, Joffrey. Her children all had blond hair and green eyes. He looked at the book again – all Baratheon children have black hair and blue eyes! Ned was troubled and pondered the conundrum. _What does this mean?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the length and lateness of this chapter. I am on vacation, traveling and visiting, and have less computer time than usual. There will be more Red Keep intrigue, but I promise more romance and humor soon.


	17. Grim Nym

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a strange mixture of violence and fluff.

Lady Nym approached Jon Connington, and he observed that she wore a very serious expression, with no hint of flirtation. Even her clothes were demure, as she was dressed in drab gray silks that were not revealing. She addressed him formally, “Lord Connington, your prisoner, Amory Lorch, cruelly murdered my infant cousin, Rhaenys Targaryen, four and ten years past. Her kinfolk cry out for revenge. I demand to be allowed to challenge him to mortal combat. He must die for his crimes, preferably by my hand. Rhaenys’ brother Aegon is too young to have cold blood on his hands, so I, a seasoned warrior, will represent the family.”

Lord Connington looked at her just as seriously. “Are you sure you want to do this? He is also a seasoned fighter.” She nodded her assent.

Ser Amory was brought out from the dungeons. He was taken to Harrenhal’s fighting pit and his shackles were removed. Lorch had no armor and was only wearing boiled leather. Lady Nym announced in a loud voice, “Amory Lorch, you are a craven and a child killer. I challenge you to single combat to the death. If you refuse, the act will truly brand you as the coward that you are without your armor.”

Lorch gave her an evil, contemptuous smirk, “It will give me great pleasure, bastard, to hack you to death, also.” He was given a chain mail shirt, similar to the one that Lady Nym now wore, and the first choice between two shortswords and two daggers. Lorch picked up a sword and a dagger, and tested their balance. Lady Nym picked up the remaining weapons and casually swung them for familiarity.

The combatants faced each other and began trading blows, testing each other’s abilities and patterns. Both were good, and initially eluded dangerous thrusts with skillful parries. Lorch landed the first major strike, a slam to the ribs that caused Nym to grimace, but her chainmail prevent the blow from wounding her. As she was struck by Lorch’s sword, she moved in with lightning speed to scratch Lorch on the forearm with her dagger. Ser Amory tried to land the next blow, but he was surprised when the thrust was off target, and his recovery maneuver was slower than previously.

Lady Nym grinned evilly at him, “Yes, you have been poisoned, you child killer,” as she easily avoided his subsequent attacks, while applying small wounds with both weapons repeatedly. Nym landed a strong blow to his left wrist and he dropped the dagger. Another strike to the right wrist, and he lost his shortsword. The Sand Snake began to land many rapid strokes in succession, and soon Lorch was bleeding from almost two dozen small wounds. Finally, she viciously stabbed him in both eyes, and as he groaned and fell to his knees, she cut his throat with her dagger, spraying blood everywhere. Her hollow eyes turned to the witnesses, “Would that I could have stabbed him fifty times before he died, as he did to the infant princess, Rhaenys.” She threw her weapons to the ground with some force, and stood with her head down and an exhausted expression on her face. 

Lord Connington was the first to approach her, and he grasped her hands, “Lady Nymeria, have no remorse or guilt for Amory Lorch, he was an evil man, and whether by your hand or another’s, he deserved death. His soul should wander the seven hells in pain for eternity.”

Lady Nym raised her eyes to Jon and with a beseeching countenance; she pulled him into an embrace and attempted to kiss him on the lips.

Connington turned his face away, and gently removed her arms. “No, my lady, you do not want me. Let your ladies comfort you.” Ashara and the two Dornish companions were with Nym in an instant, wiping the blood from her face, and speaking of a warm, soothing bath, while removing her from the blood-soaked grounds of the fighting pit.

Duck approached Jon, as Lady Nym was led away. “What was that all about?”

Connington sighed, “You know how soldiers who have survived a fierce battle behave? It would be wrong to take advantage of the vulnerable young girl.”

Duck replied, “I find it hard to describe Lady Nym as a ‘vulnerable young girl’, but I think you have the right of it this day.”

Connington turned and spoke briskly to Arya, who appeared to be dazed and rooted in place from what she had witnessed. “Lady Arya, please gather Lady Nym’s weapons and clean them. Be careful not to touch the blades with your bare hands, as they still may have poison on them. You may also clean her chain mail. Spilled blood is the bane of battle.”

Arya, eager to be doing something useful, replied, “Yes, my lord,” and quickly gathered up the steel by the hilts and carried them to a basin of water.

Ashara later asked Nym, “How did you know that you had the poisoned dagger?”

The Sand Snake replied grimly, “Both daggers were poisoned. Mayhaps it was my time to meet the Stranger. If so, I knew I would take Lorch to hell with me, and achieve the revenge my family deserved.”

\-------------------------------------------

Sitting in her chambers, bathed clean, hair brushed and shiny, and dressed in fresh silk robes, Lady Nym was still despondent. Ashara was rubbing her shoulders, trying to console her. Arya sat at her feet with a concerned expression, stroking Nymeria the direwolf behind the ears. Nym looked down at her disciple and said, “Ending a life, any life, is an enormous responsibility; the soul taker carries the sadness of killing for rest of their life. Does one even have right to take a life? Did the Stranger give me permission? If a warrior has a conscience, the weight of the taken souls is the heaviest burden to carry. Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane are monsters, not men, and are cursed because they feel no guilt for their crimes.”

She threw back her head and swallowed a full goblet of wine, then she refilled the goblet, and threw back another. Arya commented, “”That wine must taste good.”

Nym looked at her sharply and replied, “Sometimes one does not drink for the taste.” She continued in a solemn voice, “The life of a warrior is unpredictable, one unexpected stroke of a blade, and you are dead. That is why I live every minute of my life to the fullest. But enough of this seriousness, I am tired of feeling gloomy. We need to change the subject. What should we talk about? Ah, don’t we have unfinished business concerning your intentions towards the ensnared Prince Aegon?”

Arya remembered the kiss she gave him. Aegon had responded as if he had been struck by lightning. Arya admitted to herself that it had affected her, too, and now she felt even closer to him, as if he was more than a merely a good friend. But she knew that Aegon wanted more than friendship, he wanted to be betrothed to her, and she was not ready to even consider that course of action. Arya looked up at her mentor, and replied, “It comes down to me wanting to be his best friend, and him wanting me to eventually become his wife. I want the independence to travel and grow up on my own, yet I feel a connection to Aegon, and am not sure if I really want to leave him. It is very confusing.”

Nym was looking serious once again, and she sighed now, “Ah, Arya, you are getting quite an education for someone so young. You should not have to deal with all of this right now. I can tell you what works for me – follow your heart.”

“Follow my heart?”

“Yes. Follow your heart. Sometimes your brain will tell you that you _must_ do a certain thing, and you do it because those close to you think it is right. But your heart tells you that it is wrong for _you_ and you will be unhappy. You must do what is right for you even if your kin disapprove and other people say terrible things about you. They may be displeased but you will not regret your decision. I don’t know. Does that make sense?”

“The Tully Words are ‘Family, Duty, Honor’.”

“But how many lives have been ruined by adherence to those ‘Words’? They may be fine for many Tullys and Starks, but are they right for _you_? That is what you must decide, and you must listen to your heart. I will advise you if I can.” And she kissed her on top of her head.

\-------------------------------------------

Later, Arya asked, “Lady Nym, you are a woman grown, beautiful, and highborn. Why do I never hear anyone mentioning betrothals for you? I have only ten and one namedays, and all I hear is that this or that lord wants to be betrothed to me. It doesn’t make sense.”

Nym sighed and responded, “Arya, that is a very good question, and it is time you learned about the politics of marriage in Westeros. Although my father is a prince and my mother is a noblewoman of Volantis, I am a bastard and have no official standing in House Martell of Dorne. Marriage to me would not bring the wealth or political advantages that would come with a legitimate daughter of Prince Oberon Martell.”

Arya interjected angrily, “But that’s stupid! My favorite brother Jon is a bastard, and he is just as good as my brother Robb, who will be the next Lord Stark!”

“Nevertheless, you represent one of the oldest and most highly respected Great Houses of Westeros. You also represent the North, the largest kingdom in area. Your lady mother represents the Great House of the Riverlands, the Tullys. A marriage to you would be highly advantageous to any determined lord or knight. That is why even at your tender age, betrothal to you is desirable for an ambitious man.”

Arya bit her lip and frowned, “I would not want to marry anyone simply because they want wealth, land, or a link to my family. I would want to be valued for myself as a person.”

Lady Nym looked at her shrewdly, “In other words, you would want a marriage based on love.”

Arya looked confused, “Sansa always prattled on about love and poetry and songs and handsome knights. I always thought that was for fairy tales, and not real life.”

Ashara put her arm around Arya, “Prince Aegon loves you, and it has nothing to do with family, land, or wealth.”  


Arya frowned, “Ah, that’s the aurochs in the kitchen – Aegon. I just don’t know……”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope the middle part of this chapter was not too Disneyfied, but I felt that I had to include it. I’m not sure how I’m going to use it in the future, but there it is.
> 
> Lady Nym kind of explains her perceived promiscuity here.


	18. A Tale of Two Castles

Previously:

Ned noticed an amazingly thick book on the table of the Hand’s solar. He inspected it and saw that it was important – the Book of Westeros’ Houses, enumerating the characteristics of all the Families of the land. Lord Arryn had left the book open to the Baratheon pages. There was also a slip of parchment with writing in Arryn’s hand beside the book. It read ‘The seed is strong’ and listed the Baratheon physical characteristics - tall, robust, blue eyes, black hair. Ned remembered that Robert’s first bastard, fathered in the Vale when he was a mere lad, was a daughter named Mya, who perfectly fit this description. His mind wandered to Cersei’s children, especially that monster, Joffrey. Her children all had blond hair and green eyes. He looked at the book again – all Baratheon children have black hair and blue eyes! Ned was troubled and pondered the conundrum. _What does this mean?_

_______________________

Ned saw Varys in the Great Hall, and requested that he find an opportunity to come to his solar. Later that day, the Spider surprised him by suddenly appearing through a secret door in the Tower of the Hand. Varys gave him a sly smile, “It is better that no one know that we talked privately.”

The Hand showed him the book and Jon Arryn’s note. “What do you make of this?” He asked.

Varys studied the Baratheon pages and carefully examined Lord Arryn’s note. He looked at Ned. “Lord Stark, I think Jon Arryn would advise you to go to Street of Steel, and buy a sword at Tobho Mott’s shop. That was one of the last things he did before he died.”

Ned left the Red Keep with Jory and found the recommended blacksmith. When he entered, he heard the sound of a hammer pounding metal on an anvil, and walked into the forge. He saw a tall, strong youth shaping a sword, and when the boy looked up, Ned was startled to see the jet black hair, bright blue eyes, and handsome face of a young Robert Baratheon. It was obvious that this lad was the king’s bastard. There was one difference: The boy had an intelligent face. Ned admitted to himself that his lifelong friend Robert had an open and friendly visage, but he didn’t look or act very smart. This boy did.

Lord Stark went to the front of the shop and met the master smith. After the introductions, Ned asked, “Who is your apprentice? His appearance is very familiar.”

Mott replied, “My Lord Hand, his is an interesting story. Gendry was brought to me as an orphan when he had about eight namedays. A mysterious man, obviously from the court, gave me a sack of gold, and told me to raise him as a smith, and keep him out of the public eye. The man told me not to deviate from his orders, as Gendry’s progress would be secretly observed. As you may have guessed from his look, the king was his father, but I have never discussed his parentage with him.”

“How old is the boy now?”

“Milord, Gendry has four and ten namedays. As you can see, he is big and strong for his age, and smithing comes naturally to him. The lad has talent.”

“May I speak with him?”

“You may, but although the boy is an expert with a hammer, he is awkward with words.”

Ned approached Gendry and introduced himself. The apprentice smith dropped his gaze, almost bent the knee, and sullenly muttered, “Milord.”

Lord Stark asked, “Gendry, what do you know about your family?”

Gendry’s voice was still sullen, “I came here an orphan. My mother worked in a tavern, and died when I was young. I didn’t know who my father was, milord.”

“Did you know the man who brought you here?”

“No idea, milord. And that was a long time ago.”

Ned bade him farewell and returned to Tobho Mott. “So has anyone inquired about him over the years, Master Mott?”

The smith shook his head, “No, milord, but I followed my instructions, and all was quiet until the Lord Hand Arryn came to the shop a short time before he died, and he was also intent on speaking to Gendry. I was going to tell you about that, because he asked the same questions that you put to him.”

“And his answers were the same?”

“Yes, milord, the same. Lord Arryn did not tell me the purpose of his visit.”

Ned sighed, “Well, I’d like to know why, also.” He left with Jory, and pondered if Jon Arryn’s visit to the forge had anything to do with his death.

\-----------------------------------------

When Ned returned to the Tower of the Hand, once again Varys appeared from a secret passage. “Well, Lord Hand, what did you learn?”

“I met another of Robert’s bastards. A tall, strapping young lad, a talented apprentice that is the spitting image of his father as a youth. He has been hidden on the Street of Steel all these years. Jon Arryn met him just before he died.”

“And you wonder if there is any connection?”

“Of course, I want to solve this mystery.”

“Lord Stark, I know how to help you, but you must become a spider like me, and sneak through the castle. You may not like what you learn. Are you willing to follow me?”

“If I have no other choice, I will.”

Varys led Ned through a secret passage directly to his dressing room, and fitted Ned with a disguise that made him appear as a nondescript anonymous courtier, without a sigil on his tunic. His hat even had a cleverly attached wig to camouflage his hair. Ned stole out through a side passage to the Great Hall, and secretly observed the royal family.

Queen Cersei was giving King Robert dirty looks, but smiled sweetly at Princess Myrcella, a beautiful blonde girl a bit younger than Sansa; she constantly criticized her cowering younger son, Prince Tommen; but positively doted on her older son, Prince Joffrey, the heir to the throne.

 _She acts haughty and superior to everyone who approaches,_ Ned thought, _Arya was right from the first, she really is a bitch!_ But what startled Ned the most, was that Cersei’s most affectionate glances were only for her handsome twin brother, Jaime, now the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, standing in his white armor and cloak over her right shoulder. They constantly shared smiles and winks whenever there was an opportunity. Ned recognized the behavior; _He is the man that she loves the most!_ As he slipped quietly from the hall, something was nagging at him, but he could not quite put his finger on it. _What am I missing?_ He pondered.

Later, he was having dinner with Sansa and Septa Mordane, half-listening as the girl prattled on about how handsome her betrothed was. But his ears perked up as he heard his daughter say, “And he looks nothing like that fat, bloated drunken king. Prince Joffrey is almost as handsome as Ser Jaime, and shares the same lovely features.”

Ned had a shock that almost made him choke on his wine, _Out of the mouth of babes! That’s it! Jaime is Joffrey’s father, not Robert, and he is most likely the father of Myrcella and Tommen, also! Cersei has been bedding her brother for years, and her children are the products of incest!_ Ned’s blood ran cold. If the High Septon learned of this, he would denounce the children as abominations, and Cersei and Jaime as incestuous adulterers, and demand that they all be executed immediately. House Lannister would be disgraced, and would lose any opportunity to rule Westeros.

\------------------------------------------------

Several weeks went by as Ned contemplated the shocking truth about the Lannister family and wondered what he should do with the knowledge. A direct accusation of incest would only put him in a precarious position if Varys was to be believed, and Varys had obviously not acted on this information yet, either. Ned was busy studying ravens from all around Westeros, determining how much support King Robert would have in the face of the Targaryen invasion. The mood of the city and the court was tense as they awaited the expected news that Golden Company was moving south. With all this in mind, Ned was nervous and wary when Tywin Lannister invited himself into the Hand’s Solar. Lord Tywin was aware of his powerful position as Warden of the West and richest man in the kingdom, and blatantly tried to intimidate everyone to whom he spoke.

“Lord Stark,” he said, “I have received word that Harrenhal has fallen to the Targaryen forces. The surprising thing is that it was taken with very little bloodshed. Apparently, spies within the castle opened it up to a secret and successful attack. Most of the troops were captured alive, including the commander, my bannerman, Ser Amory Lorch. However, some of the soldiers were able to escape, and brought me this information. I trust that this is the first you have heard of the Targaryen advance?”

Ned nodded, “Yes, I have received no ravens or reports from scouts of this action.”

Lord Tywin looked sharply at Ned and continued, “The loss of Harrenhal is terrible, but what disturbs me even more, is that witnesses swore that they saw your missing, and presumed dead daughter, Arya, dressed in Dornish attire, riding next to Lord Jon Connington and Prince Aegon Targaryen. Were you not aware that a Stark was traveling with the Golden Company?”

Ned blood turned cold, and he tried not to show any emotion save shock, “No, this is the first I have heard about such a strange occurrence. All the search parties came back empty-handed after weeks of scouring the Riverlands, and I had begun to reluctantly accept that my unfortunate daughter had been killed and eaten by the wolves whose howling had been heard so frequently in the area. This news is a surprise to me. The most likely explanation is that the Targaryens found her in the forest and are holding her as a hostage.”

Tywin Lannister looked suspiciously at Ned, “My informants said that she did not look like a prisoner, but an ally. She even carried weapons and rode a nimble sand steed. And if she was a hostage, surely Connington would have contacted you about the ransom, no?” He stared at Ned. “Have you received a message from him?”

Ned was very worried and hoped that he was not sweating and giving away his lie, “No, there has been no contact. Mayhaps, the girl was not Arya, but a Dornish wench.”

Lord Tywin said nothing, but did not look like he believed Ned. “So you say. Surely, if a message _does_ happen to arrive from the Targaryen camp, you would immediately inform the King and Small Council, wouldn’t you?”

Ned tried to look confident, “Of course, that would be most important information.”

Tywin fixed him with his cold, green eyes, and then turned to leave, “I certainly hope you would, _Lord Hand_. It would reflect badly on you if you didn’t.”

After he had gone, Ned locked the door, and put his head in his hands. _I hope I can get out of here before he learns the truth! Lannister is a formidable enemy! If I reveal the evidence of incest and no one believes me, I am doomed!_

\---------------------------------------------

Meanwhile, in the Targaryen camp, Arya started her knife training with Lady Nym, and even allowed Ashara to explain “lady things” to her without being as demeaning as her mother and septa had been. Arya continued her water dance training with Bokko, who still suggestively japed with her as Theon used to do in Winterfell, and she was amused by his behavior. If Aegon was present, he no longer showed concern when Bokko became rather familiar with her, knowing that coarse teasing was in her nature. In fact, at times when Bokko put his hands on her, she would make eye contact with Aegon, as though she was daring him to display jealousy, and he didn’t respond. He knew by now that Arya was not really interested in male attention, save for his, and he was content.

Both Arya and Aegon continued their education with Haldon, especially military history. They built models of famous battles in the dirt, and discussed terrain, troop deployment, and maneuvers. Haldon explained finances, such as calculating expected crop yields, trade, income and expenses. Arya already knew a bit about this and helped teach Aegon. They also played cyvasse for fun and to practice strategy and tactics. Arya even had to play cyvasse with Homeless Harry, who had complained that she had been neglecting him. When they became stiff from sitting too long in the library, they would go out and spar under the direction of Duck. Arya even showed Duck and Aegon how certain water dancing steps could be useful when fighting Westerosi-style, emphasizing balance and recovery while parrying. Duck was impressed, and they practiced new sparring patterns. Jon Connington watched over all their activities, and wryly thought, _when I become too old, Arya would make a good Hand for Aegon_. Connington turned to Haldon and remarked, “Those fools at the Citadel are overlooking a large source of talent by not recruiting women. I wager that there are plenty of females like Arya who could become good maesters.”

Haldon replied seriously, “And many women would prefer to have female maesters, who might have better rapport and understanding of their issues.”

Connington japed, “If Arya were to become Queen, I’m sure she would lean on the Grand Maesters to change their traditions. And knowing how stubborn she is, I would not be surprised if she were successful.”

Haldon smiled, “Yes, if persuasion won’t work, she would just ‘stick ‘em with the pointy end’ as she likes to say.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final paragraphs of this chapter were inspired by news of the celebration of the 50th anniversary of “The Summer of Love” taking place in San Francisco and the beginning of modern feminism in 1967, of which I was a supporter.
> 
> Don’t go writing ‘Mary Sue’ in your comments. I don’t care. Be glad that there are no talking animals in this story.


	19. Action in the Hour of the Wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! This chapter contains totally inappropriate and smutty behavior by all involved. If fan fiction smut disturbs you, I suggest you skip it. Notice that my tags have changed because of this chapter. However, if you like physical romance, and find Lady Nym irresistible, I think you will enjoy this escapade.

Chapter 19 - Action in the Hour of the Wolf

It was the hour of the wolf when Nym woke Arya from a deep sleep. Ashara was snoring softly. Nym wrapped Arya in a cloak, and whispered in her ear, “I am going to surprise Duck as I promised when we first met, and I need you to distract Aegon.” She gave Arya more instructions, and they crept silently from the chamber.

When Arya shook Aegon to wake him up, he thought that he was still dreaming. Since ‘The Kiss’, Aegon had dreamed every night that Arya was in his bed, curled up next to him, and here she was in the flesh!

Arya whispered, “I am here on a military operation. I am to be a diversionary force and distract you while Lady Nym makes a direct assault on Ser Rolly. Nym suggested that I teach you the ‘Princess Xena and Gabrielle tickling game’.”

This was a game that Nym frequently played with her bedmaid, Sarra, and she had also taught it to Arya. The objective of the game is to find your opponent’s ticklish spots. Nym told her that girls in Dorne played it often after dark, but it could be played with boys, too. Arya took off her cloak, revealing unbound hair and a cute nightie trimmed with lace, and climbed into his bed. Aegon noticed that the nightie was very sheer, and he could see the outline of her body. Startled, he asked, “no smallclothes?”

“Nym says underclothes get in the way during the game.”

Aegon learned that Arya was ticklish on the ribs, under her arms, behind her knees, and some other places that he would rather not think about. Arya learned that Aegon was ticklish on the teats and inside the elbows, and some other places she would think more about later. Occasionally, she would admonish him, “Ouch! You’re on my hair! Move!” and when he did, it only brought them closer together. As they wrestled, they couldn’t help overhearing Nym and Duck activities in his sleeping alcove.

“Surprise!” Nym had announced when she woke him up, holding a dim candle. “I said I wanted to see if you had red hair all over, so here I am. Ohhhh, you _do_. It’s like a carpet covering your broad chest and flat stomach. Can I touch it? _Oh_ , it’s soft _and_ wiry at the same time. It feels the same _all_ over, right down to the laces of your smallclothes. Yes, right along _here_. Yes, _all_ along here. You _like_ that, don’t you? You’re nodding, I know you do. Let’s just take _this_ off. Ummmm. Oh, my, I was right! That _is_ bright! I’m going to call you ‘Red’ from now on. And _what_ is this? Seven hells! Is that a tree? I wouldn’t believe it if I hadn’t seen it myself! Tyene won’t believe me when I tell her. There is _no_ way that is going to fit! Noooo way. Buuuut, it would be a shame to let such an edifice go to waste. Well, let’s try something. Kiss me. (Louder) Yes, kiss me! Pretend I’m the Dornishman’s Wife! (Giggles) Don’t worry, you won’t die. Mayhaps. (Giggles again) That’s right, right there. Oooooh, that’s good. Yes, just like that. Oh gods, just keep doing that! Aaaah. Aaaah. (Giggles again) Your beard tickles! No, don’t stop, stupid! I’ll survive! Oooh, I didn’t expect that you would be so good at this! Oooooh. I think I will chain you to my bed and keep you forever! Ooooh. Oh, Red, I think I’m ready! Aaaah!”

Arya and Aegon had stopped the tickling game, and were listening raptly, arms and legs all tangled up, faces close together. They heard loud sucking sounds as well as Nym’s voice. Arya asked curiously, “How can she be kissing him, if she is still talking?” Aegon face had a puzzled expression, also. The sounds stopped and they heard Nym and Duck mumbling and moving around.

Nym’s excited voice picked up again. “Yes, _there_ , yes, right there! Ouch! No, don’t stop, idiot! Ouch! Gently, please! Oooooh. Easy, easy. It’s getting better, now. Ooooh. That’s good, _very_ good. Yes, that’s the rhythm we want. Aaaah, now we have it! Aaaaah. Aaaah! I _am_ going to chain you to my bed!” The voice stopped, and all Arya and Aegon heard was movement, slapping flesh, and grunting.

Arya’s eyes sparkled. She whispered, “Let’s go spy on them.” Aegon nodded. They quietly crawled until they had a good view of the lovers. Duck was flat on his back and immobilized, eyes squeezed shut, with a grimace on his face. Nym’s negligée was bunched up around her hips, as she straddled his mid-section, and she was bobbing up and down as if she were on a galloping horse. The cloth was sheer, and the outline of her round and perfect breasts were visible, bouncing up and down with a life of their own as she rocked back and forth on top of Duck. His hands slid under the negligée, moved from her hips to her breasts, squeezed them for a while, and then moved back to her hips, gripping her tightly and pulling her closer, and then returned to her breasts.

Arya looked over at Aegon, poked him with an elbow, and whispered, “Don’t stare at her breasts, it’s not polite!”

Nym’s head was bent forward and she was watching Duck’s face intently, her hands on his chest and her strong arms alternately lifting and thrusting her torso against him, moaning and panting. With every downward thrust Duck groaned audibly. Occasionally, she leaned forward to kiss him on the lips, and grinded against him as she did so. All of a sudden, the vibrations became more frantic, and Nym’s moans began to become louder and louder, “Ooooh! Ooooh! By the gods, I’m there! I’m there! Seven hells, Red! Aaaarghh!” and she collapsed onto his chest, after a scream that could have awakened the castle. A moment later, Duck gripped Nym’s hips with great force and shouted, “By the gods!” The bed had been shaking violently, and just as Nym collapsed, the tortured frame broke with a loud crack, depositing the entangled lovers and the pallet on the floor, and they both emitted “Oooff!”

Arya and Aegon looked at each other in amazement, and then Arya looked down at Aegon’s body. “Aegon, look! You are turning into a stallion! And your balls have shrunk! Can I touch your cock? Oooh, it is hard and so stiff! Will it grow even larger if I pull on it?”

Aegon’s had hurriedly moved to cover himself, but it was too late. Arya’s small, strong left hand had quickly encased his cock and was vigorously stroking it. “It _is_ getting bigger!” she said with amazement in her voice.

“Arya, no! Stop! Please stop! I think you should go! If we get caught like this, Lord Jon will lock both of us away!” He was sputtering fearfully and desperately attempting to remove her fingers, but her grip was astoundingly tight and determined for a small girl.

They heard another voice. Nym was standing over them, running her fingers through her disheveled hair, adjusting her negligée, and donning her cloak. “Don’t worry; you won’t get into any trouble.”

Nym’s face was flushed, and her lovely lips were pink and puffy. Aegon could not help but notice how beautiful his cousin was. But then he realized that Arya still seemed to have a death grip on his hard cock.

Nym was looking over his shoulder, and added, “Aaah, Arya was right. She told me that you were well endowed, and now I believe her. That is an impressive member for a lad of your years. Arya, sweetling, you will have to play with Aegon’s cock another time. It is late and time for bed, I mean sleep. That is unless Aegon was expecting something else. What say you, Aegon? By the way, isn’t Arya’s nightie cute? And you can see right through it. I’ll wager you like that, don’t you?”

Even in the weak light of the dim candle, Aegon’s face obviously revealed his embarrassment and there was panic in his voice. “Wait! What did she say? No, no, I don’t expect anything else! Yes, yes, I like the nightie! I should go!” he moved to get up.

Nym placed a hand on his shoulder, firmly pushing him down. “Relax, Aegon, this is _your_ chamber, _we_ are the ones who are leaving.”

Arya bounced up, gave him a quick kiss on the lips, and said, “Good night! That was fun!” Her nightie had bunched up around her waist, and for a moment he saw a glimpse of long pale legs and a little more before it fell into place.

Aegon continued to blush and mumble incoherently. He was totally dazed and confused, but he was relieved that Arya no longer had a death grip on his cock and he was more comfortable now.

Nym turned to Arya, “Come, put on your cloak.” Then she looked at Aegon again, “Don’t worry about, Duck, Aegon. He is not dead. My new redheaded friend is merely stunned and needs to sleep. I hope you had a nice visit with Arya, dear cuz. Good night!”

As they left, Nym muttered to Arya, “I need to make some tea, and I wonder if there are any of those pain-relieving poultices left. I think that I am going to be sore for a week!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you are not familiar with the song, “The Dornishman’s Wife”, look for the lyrics in ASoIaF.
> 
> This the last of my completed chapters. More Ned in King's Landing will be ready in a few days.


	20. Trouble in the Red Keep

Previously:

Ned had a shock that almost made him choke on his wine, _Out of the mouth of babes! That’s it! Jaime is Joffrey’s father, not Robert, and he is most likely the father of Myrcella and Tommen, also! Cersei has been bedding her brother for years, and her children are the products of incest!_ Ned’s blood ran cold. If the High Septon learned of this, he would denounce the children as abominations, and Cersei and Jaime as incestuous adulterers, and demand that they all be executed immediately. House Lannister would be disgraced, and would lose any opportunity to rule Westeros.

\----------------------------------

Varys sneaked into the Hand’s solar the next day. “Well, what did you learn?”

Ned told him, “I can’t believe no one else has noticed this, but it is obvious that Joffrey, Myrcella, and Tommen are from Jaime’s seed, not Robert’s.”

Varys smirked, “Mayhaps others in court have come to the same conclusion, but have chosen not to say anything for their own personal safety. Who would want to have Tywin Lannister as an enemy?”

Lord Stark frowned, “I may have no choice, because Tywin all but announced that he views me as an enemy. Is that why you have been silent about this matter?”

The Spider replied, “As long as Robert remains king, and the status quo is unchanged, I will do nothing. With my little birds and colleagues in Essos, I have just watched the Targaryens prepare to retake the Iron Throne. I will support the side that appears to become successful with the least amount of damage to the general populace of Westeros. However, the incestuous Lannister family is one I loathe to support. I will continue to watch and wait. Smart money in the Free Cities is on Aegon.”

\--------------------------------------------

Since Ned was not ready to take on the Lannisters by himself, he turned his attention to more pressing needs – namely organizing King’s Robert’s supporters throughout Westeros and finding money to pay for the troops and supplies necessary to repel the Targaryen invasion. After Tywin’s unsettling visit to his solar, he tried to concentrate on his task, and not think about the Lannisters. _Robert is useless. I can’t trust Pycelle or Baelish. I’ll wait until both Renly and Stannis are here and give them the evidence, so they can deal with it._

But problems arose before he could consult the King’s brothers. Ned became aware of pandemonium breaking out in Maegor’s Holdfast, the royal family’s personal quarters in the Red Keep, and went to investigate. Members of the court were running around in a panic. He grabbed a servant by the arm and asked, “What has happened?”

The servant replied, “The King has fallen down a flight of stairs and broken his neck! The Queen is trying to restore order!”

Ned approached the throne room, and saw Varys arriving as well. Ned steered him towards a small alcove and asked, “What did your ‘little birds’ tell you?”

Varys actually looked concerned, “Robert died instantly. No Kingsguards were present. Ser Jaime was attending Queen Cersei, and he had not enquired who was watching the King. Robert had a wineskin in his hand at the time, and it was brought to me. The wine smelled as if it were tainted with a clever poison. His dear squire, Lancel Lannister, had delivered his final skin, and is now very distraught.” Now Varys smirked, “Lancel is a favorite of the Queen’s, and she is consoling the poor lad, assuring him that it was not his fault, but Robert’s constant drinking that led to his demise.”

A steward came out of the throne room, and seeing Ned, said, “Ah, Lord Hand, the Queen just sent me to fetch you. Please enter.”

Ned went into the throne room, bowed and said, “Your Grace, I just learned of King Robert’s death. I am saddened and distraught. We squired together and he was my best friend. This is a difficult time for me, and I am sure for you also. How can I help?” As the realization that his longtime friend was really dead sunk in, Ned’s eyes began to fill with tears, and he spoke with difficulty.

He peered at the high seats and realized that although Queen Cersei had a stern visage, it did not appear that she had been crying, and Prince Joffrey almost seemed delighted. Ser Jaime, standing right behind the Queen’s right shoulder, looked on impassively. Cersei spoke to Ned haughtily, “We will all miss King Robert, Lord Stark, but the work of the regime must continue as usual for the good of Westeros. We task you to contact the High Septon and arrange for the funeral, followed by the coronation of Prince Joffrey a week later.”

Ned was startled, and asked, “Isn’t that a bit hasty, Your Grace? There will be no time to mourn the King properly.”

Queen Cersei replied coldly, “In these troubled times of impending turmoil, the people need a king in place.”

The Hand looked uncomfortable, but she continued, “These will be your last obligations as Hand. As Regent, we prefer to have Lord Tywin Lannister serve as Hand and advise us. You will be released from your duties as soon as you have completed our orders.”

Ned bowed and made to withdraw, but the Queen motioned for him to stay. “Lord Stark, we have been informed of your wicked younger daughter’s presence in the Targaryen camp. We demand that you to negotiate an exchange of prisoners with Lord Connington so that she can be brought to King’s Landing for her punishment. There must be consequences for attacking a prince, or the people will lose respect for the crown. If Arya repents, and Joffrey is lenient, she will only be maimed, and not beheaded, with her head placed on a spike.”

Now he was astonished and thought, _How vicious ARE these Lannisters?_ He responded, “Your Grace, Prince Joffrey suffered a small wound, and he seems to be completely healed now. Isn’t maiming or beheading an extreme punishment?”

Cersei was firm, “The royal family must be respected. We intend to make an example of her. A loyal subject of the realm would not question our will.”

Ned replied, “Surely you realize that we are speaking of a frightened girl of only ten namedays.”

The Queen would not relent, “It makes no matter, we demand that you arrange to fetch her as soon as possible.”

Now Ned bowed and withdrew, thinking, _That is the last straw, I must make arrangements to flee this cesspool!_

\-------------------------------

He returned to the Tower of the Hand and summoned his captain, Jory Cassel. When he arrived, Ned told him, “Jory, it has become as dangerous as I feared. We must make haste to leave immediately! How many guardsmen do we have?”

Jory replied, “About one hundred, milord.”

Ned bit his lip and replied thoughtfully, “Not enough, but it will have to do. Gather the men and tell them to be prepared to fight. We have no armor, but you can distribute chainmail shirts. Warn them to protect the noncombatants. We will meet in the stables. Silence any who question our actions. Tell Vayon Poole to find the girls, Sansa and Jeyne, and help them to quickly pack their belongings. Prepare all our retainers to depart, and to tell no one outside our House!” He hurriedly found Varys in his chambers, and gave him Lord Arryn’s book and note, and a letter he had written to Renly and Stannis. “If you have any love for the Kingdom, please deliver these to Robert’s brothers. I have run out of time! Goodbye!”

Varys nodded, and said, “If it pleases you, my lord, I will arrange for Robert’s bastard, Gendry, to join you. His life is forfeit if he remains in King’s Landing. I wish you good fortune.”

Ned replied, “I will take the lad, for I could not save the father. But be quick about it!”

\------------------------------------------------

Before she could finish packing, Sansa had to attend court along with the other courtiers to learn about the arrangements for the funeral and coronation. Prince Joffrey had a wicked grin on his face, and he motioned for Sansa to approach him. “Lady Sansa, now that I am about to become the king, I am pleased to inform you that we are no longer betrothed. It was only my father’s foolish idea to join Houses Stark and Lannister. I intend to marry Margaery Tyrell, a _real_ woman from a productive, civilized kingdom, not a grubby child from the cold wasteland of the useless North, with its uncouth inhabitants.”

Sansa stood there in shock and humiliation, unable to respond.

Joffrey smirked at her, “I did have plans for you, though. If you had flowered already, I would have taken you as my paramour, but nothing more.”

At that, Sansa lost her temper, and angrily retorted, “I would _never_ want to marry such a nasty person as you anyway! You are deliberately hurtful and mean, and your face is ugly when you throw temper tantrums like a little baby!”

Joffrey turned purple with anger and shouted, “How dare you! Someone strike her for that insult!” Ser Boros Blount of the Kingsguard quickly stepped forward and slapped Sansa face, leaving an ugly red welt. Joffrey sputtered, “Get her out of my sight!”

Sansa had her hand over her inflamed cheek, and spit back, “I don’t know why I ever thought you were a noble prince! You are horrid! I’ll be glad to leave your sight! My father is taking me home!” As Ser Boros stepped forward again, Desmond and Septa Mordane immediately took hold of Sansa and hurried her from the throne room.

However, Queen Cersei was listening, and upon hearing Sansa’s angry last words, became concerned, and shouted, “Ser Meryn, Ser Boros, fetch Lord Stark at once!”

\-------------------------------------------

As Ned was feverishly packing, Desmond and Septa Mordane approached with Sansa between them. Before Ned could speak, Desmond hurriedly told him, “Milord, we have been discovered! The Queen knows that we are going to flee!”

Sansa had tears in her eyes, “I am sorry, Father, but Joffrey made me angry, and I told him we were leaving.”

Her father was donning a chainmail shirt. He sighed, “Well, we will just have to hurry. Make haste to grab your things and go with Jeyne and her father. We are all meeting at the stables.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The Starks attempt to flee from King’s Landing.


	21. Escape from King's Landing

Lord Stark rushed to meet Jory and his guardsmen at the stables of the Red Keep. For the sake of secrecy, all the stableboys and grooms had been bound and gagged. Jory said, “Milord, we have saddled many of the horses and will take them with us. That way we can slow down the Redcloaks and have fresh mounts for quickly leaving this castle behind us.”

Ned nodded and replied, “Smart thinking. We will place Vayon Poole, the girls, and our unarmed retainers in the center of our party when we ride out. There will be resistance at the gates, so dispatch the men necessary to take control as we arrive. If we maintain the element of surprise, mayhaps we can leave the city with little interference.”

There was not a large contingent of Redcloaks at the entrance to the Red Keep, and they were quickly overcome. Those that did not resist were bound and gagged. Those that fought did not live to talk about it. The gates were opened, the Stark contingent passed through, and the rear guard hastily set up a barrier outside the gates to impede the pursuit of anyone following them.

Once outside the Red Keep, Ned turned his horse around and addressed his men. “Now we must gallop through the city, straight to the Gate of the Gods, and out to the kingsroad. We will pass through two squares - try to avoid riding over citizens. We will not be expected, so hopefully we can overwhelm the Goldcloaks at the city gates. Follow me! Now ride!”

There were a large number of guards at the Gate of the Gods, inspecting people and carts passing through. Upon seeing the armed group of riders rushing to the gates, some guards attempted to close them, but they were not completely successful by the time the Northerners arrived and engaged them with drawn swords. More Goldcloaks came out of the barracks as an alarum was raised, and Ned and his soldiers found themselves in a pitched battle. They had even numbers with the Goldcloaks, and the advantage of fighting from horseback. Unfortunately, some of the Goldcloaks had pikes, and Ned saw Fat Tom, Wyl, and Jacks impaled, pulled from their horses, and stabbed to death.

Ned was fighting fiercely, doing much damage as he swung his Valerian steel longsword, Ice, and his captain, Jory, was as effective beside him. He saw that his men were getting the better of the conflict and that the gates had been blocked open, when two huge destriers appeared, bearing Meryn Trant and Boros Blount in their white scale Kingsguard armor. Before Ned could even shout a warning, Porther, Hullen, and a few other guardsmen fell victim to their longswords and ferocity. Ned’s blood froze when he saw that Blount was riding straight towards him and Trant towards Sansa and her guards.

Momentarily distracted by the arrival of the two Kingsguard knights, a Goldcloak’s sword struck Ned on the left forearm, and he cried out in pain. The chainmail sleeve prevented the sword from cutting him, but the force of the blow made the arm useless and he dropped the reins of his horse. His personal guard engaged Blount, and was able to keep him at bay for a while. Ned’s concern grew as he saw Ser Meryn force aside several Stark guardsmen and trade blows with Desmond, eventually knocking Sansa’s sworn shield from his horse with a powerful blow. As Trant came closer to Sansa, Septa Mordane bravely moved between them, but the knight easily knocked her from her horse, also.

At that moment, Ned, while fighting off another Goldcloak, saw Robert’s bastard afoot, approaching the gate, surprised by the fighting. Ned shouted desperately, “Gendry! Help my daughter!” Startled at hearing his name called, Gendry saw the knight, Trant, approaching a girl, who was desperately struggling to stay upon a frightened horse while riding sidesaddle. He quickly pulled his hammer out of his belt, aimed, and threw it with tremendous force at the knight’s head. The hammer clanged off his helmet, and Trant fell heavily off his horse, unconscious. Desmond, having recovered from his own knockdown, rushed over and stabbed Trant between his gorget and breastplate with his dagger, opening Ser Meryn’s throat, sending blood spurting out of his neck.

Meanwhile, Ser Boros was coming closer and closer to Ned, hacking his way through the guardsmen. Lord Stark’s injured arm ached and he felt exhausted, but he raised his sword, preparing to counter Blount. He had no confidence that he could defeat the heavily armored knight. Suddenly another longsword appeared, and reverberated loudly against Ser Boros’s sword with such force that the knight was almost unseated. Ned whirled around and saw that the blow had been delivered by Ser Barristan Selmy, the disrespected and dismissed former commander of the Kingsguard. Selmy delivered another powerful blow while Blount was reeling on his mount, and he fell off his horse. Ser Barristan was on top of him in a second, and hissed, “You are a disgrace to the Kingsguard of old,” as he slid his sword under the breastplate and through Ser Boros’ ribs to puncture his heart.

Ned breathed a sigh of relief, and told him, “Ser Barristan, you have saved my life, and I will never be able to repay such a significant debt.”

Selmy looked over at Ser Meryn’s lifeblood leaving his body, and Ser Boros below him bleeding out, and contemptuously spat, “These men were creatures of that evil queen, and did not deserve to live, let alone wear the honorable armor of the Kingsguard.” He looked sharply at Ned. “Lord Stark, I know that you are going to the Targaryen camp. May I accompany you? I will work for these accursed Lannisters no more! I attended King Aerys Targaryen and I intend to offer my services to his grandson.”

The Warden of the North replied, “I would consider it an honor to travel with the noblest knight of Westeros. Of course you may accompany us! Why don’t you appropriate Ser Boros’ abandoned destrier?” Now he surveyed the area and saw that his guardsmen had won the day, were binding the living vanquished, and moving the Stark party through the gates. Jory approached and told him that they had lost three and twenty men, most notably, Hullen, master of horse, but Septa Mordane had survived being pitched to the earth. Gendry had recovered his hammer and was staring at the man that he helped send to the seven hells. “Gendry, I am beholden to you for saving my daughter’s life, but now you need to make haste to get astride a horse and prepare to depart.”

Gendry replied, “Milord, I have never ridden a horse and have no idea what to do.”

Ned told him, “Well, if you don’t ride now, you will surely die here. Here, climb up on Sansa’s horse, and she will show you how to control the reins.” He fashioned a crude sling for his injured arm, and turned to the rest of the party, “Jory! Have the rear guard block the gates!” He thrust his bloody greatsword high into the air and shouted, “Starks! Follow me! Winterfell!” as he galloped north on the kingsroad.

\-------------------------------

Gendry awkwardly climbed onto Sansa’s horse and they rode away. Gendry had to sit behind the girl and place his arms around her to hold the reins and to keep her seated sidesaddle. Sansa placed her hands lightly on top of his to guide him at first, but as he became more accustomed to what was expected, she removed them. Once they were safe and the immediate danger was gone, Sansa took a good look at her rescuer. Her father had called him ‘Gendry’. The man was huge and strong and had a handsome face. They were pressed close together on the horse, and she felt warm and comforted by his muscular arms as they all but embraced her. Sansa looked up at him and demurely said, “Thank you, Ser Gendry, I owe you my life.”

Gendry stared at her, thinking; _She is the most beautiful girl I have ever seen_! He replied, “I am no knight, but a simple blacksmith’s apprentice.”

Sansa saw that his bright blue eyes were fixed on her, and she realized that he was but a large lad, not yet a man. _He really is handsome,_ she thought, _but he looks a little too much like King Robert._ “Well, knight or smith, you are very brave and gallant, and I am grateful that you came to my aid.” She squeezed his large, calloused hand with her small, soft, and delicate one, and favored him with a bright smile. “By the way, my name is Lady Sansa Stark, and that is Lord Stark, my father, who is also grateful to you.”

Gendry thought, _This is a beautiful, noble lady, smiling at me. I could die happily right now!_ “Milady, I met your father not long ago. I suppose I owe him thanks for rescuing _me_ from King’s Landing, for I was told that my life was in danger, though I know not why.”

Sansa continued to study the youth. He had nice shoulder-length, glossy black hair and although he was clean-shaven, his chin was dark. _He can grow an impressive beard, just like a Northerner, if he wanted to,_ she thought. But then she realized, as she imagined Gendry with a full beard, _But then he would look exactly like King Robert!_ She frowned a bit, _I wonder what that means?_ Impulsively, she asked, “Gendry, do you like to drink wine?”

Gendry was startled by the question, but he was entranced by the lovely lady in his lap, and answered truthfully, “No, milady, my mother worked in a tavern, and drunks disgust me. I do not touch wine.”

Sansa’s open face expressed approval, and Gendry was pleased. Sansa realized that not only was Gendry handsome, he was very masculine. She reflected on Prince Joffrey. When he wasn’t scowling or thinking evil thoughts, he was very handsome, but he definitely was not masculine. Feeling Gendry’s large, protective frame enveloping her, she thought, _Hmm, I think I like this!_ and she almost pressed herself more closely against his chest, but she had been well instructed, and modesty prevailed.

Ned glanced over and chuckled at the sight. _There’s my dreamy daughter, imaging that she is traveling with a great knight, like in a song or poem. Arya is my realist daughter. I love them both, but they are certainly more trouble than my lads. I wonder what Arya is up to right now?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The refugees are welcomed at Harrenhal. Sansa meets Aegon. What do you think will happen?


	22. Welcome to Harrenhal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I warned you at the beginning that the focus of this fic was humor and romance.

Previously:

Nym turned to Arya, “Come, put on your cloak. It is late and time for bed, I mean sleep. I need to make some tea, and I wonder if there are any of those pain-relieving poultices left. I think that I am going to be sore for a week!”

\--------------------------------------------------

The next morning at breakfast in the officers’ dining room, Ashara noticed that Lady Nym winced in pain as she took her seat. She asked with concern in her voice, “Does something bother you, my lady?”

Nym filled her water goblet and said, “Nothing to worry about, just too much exercise.”

Now Ashara looked suspicious, and replied, “Knowing you, I have to ask: What was his name?”

At that query, Nym grinned and said, “Well, if you must know, it was Ser Rolly, my new red-headed friend.”

Ashara looked shocked, “Duck?! He is more of a mountain than a man! You really…umm?” Ashara was always uncomfortable talking about such matters.

The Sand Snake replied, “Yes, he was a real challenge. I thought he would split me in twain. Do you think that is possible?”

The septa thought, _Why do I always find myself talking about coupling with this young woman? It’s not like I wanted this conversation!_ Ashara blushed, “I have never heard of that happening to a woman, no.”

“Well, I was shaking as though I was experiencing an earthquake, and I thought that I was going to break into tiny pieces.”

A serving girl overheard part of the conversation, and interjected, “Well, last night down in the kitchens we heard a banshee scream, and the walls shook, knocking crockery off the shelves. About two dozen plates and cups broke when they hit the floor. There must have been an earthquake.”

Ashara gave Nym a sharp look, but the girl only said blandly, “Really? You are probably right.”

Desperately trying to change the direction of the conversation, Nym looked over at Aegon and casually asked, “So, dear cuz, how many ticklish points does Arya possess?”

Aegon turned red and choked on his ham, sputtering incoherently, and Arya stifled a giggle with her hand.

Lord Connington looked up suspiciously, “What’s this? We are not ‘playing maester’ again, are we? If so, I am going to send both of you to Oldtown so you can study it properly!”

Lady Nym smiled and told him, “Not to worry, my lord, just a harmless jape between kinfolk.”

Jon glared at her, “I hope not! The three of you give me too much to ponder! You tend to forget that we are fighting a war!”

Now Lady Nym looked solemn, and said quietly, “I have not forgotten that we are at war. But one cannot dwell on it _all_ the time.”

\---------------------------------------------

The King’s Landing party arrived at Harrenhal, totally exhausted after too many grueling days on the kingsroad. The Northerners had had two weeks of hard riding, with limited resources and little time for rest as they tried to stay ahead of any following Lannister forces. As they approached Harrenhal, they met Targaryen scouts and guards, and felt relieved and safe. Arya rushed to greet her father, and heard about their losses. Jon greeted Ned, saying, “I am pleased to see you again. We were all worried about you.”

Ned replied, “I am pleased, too, and we have much to discuss after I get some rest, food, and a bath.”

After welcoming her father, Arya went to talk to his guardsmen. Jory told her the details of their escape, and she greeted all the men she knew by name, japing with some and sharing rude comments with others. She spoke solemnly to the new master of horse, Harwin, and gave her condolences for the death of his father Hullen. She inspected the wounded, and directed the worst cases to the maesters.

Connington was watching her, and was struck by the fact that the men did not treat her as a child, but with the respect and affection due a comrade, or even a leader. He marveled at how familiarly she interacted with the soldiers. She spoke seriously and at length with her father’s captain, seemed to console another guardsmen, jape with others, and direct the wounded for treatment. Ned was still nearby, arranging for his people’s care, and Jon remarked, “Lord Stark, I find it interesting that you have raised Arya as though she were a lad. During the time she has been in my charge, I have followed your example. It is obvious that if you had no sons, Arya could most easily be your heir as Lord of Winterfell, and even Warden of the North.”

Ned replied, “There have been ladies, especially in the North, that have served as the lords of their Houses.”

Lord Jon continued, “I have observed Arya and the prince at their lessons, both with books and swords, and have to reluctantly admit that Aegon could have no finer helpmate than your daughter. They have developed excellent teamwork.”

Lord Stark smiled, “The obvious deduction would be that they should be betrothed. But as we both know, Arya is adverse to the idea of marriage. Besides, she is quite young, and has many ideas about what she would like to do in the future.”

Connington had a point to make, “But, my lord, you have unconsciously prepared her for one very definite future path.”

Ned looked puzzled, “What do you mean?”

“You have constantly demonstrated to her that the responsibility of a noble is the welfare of the smallfolk. Look over there, Arya takes that responsibly seriously. If she were to decide that the welfare of all the smallfolk of Westeros needed her attention, I think she might consider that an obligation. That is just my observation, and I would not try to influence her.”

“You might have the right of it. I _have_ set an example for her, but I never thought it might come to that. As you say, I will also not interfere, but only guide her.”

\----------------------------------------

When the arrival of the Stark party was imminent, Ashara rushed to go see them, but Lady Nym grabbed her arm, and said, “Hold, let me help make you presentable.” Nym brushed Ashara’s hair a bit more, and put a light blush on her cheeks and color on her lips. Nym put just enough kohl to highlight her striking purple eyes. “There,” Nym said, “You are as beautiful now as you were at that fabled Harrenhal tourney. I have heard it said that only Lyanna Stark turned as many heads as you did.”

Ashara blushed, “That was a long time ago.”

Nym smirked, “Nevertheless, Lord Stark is well aware of your beauty.”

After Arya left her father, Ashara approached Ned, who nodded and reached out with his good hand to kiss hers, but she pulled him into a tight embrace, put her head on his chest, and whispered, “I was worried, my lord. I am pleased that you made it here alive.”

Ned returned a one-armed hug and stroked her back. Looking down at her, he observed with surprise, _She has painted her face for greeting me!_ Ashara had rather large breasts, and for the second time he could feel them pressed invitingly against him. His hands itched to touch them. Ashara’s beautiful eyes were saying, ‘Kiss me,’ and he felt himself becoming aroused. With a tremendous effort of will power, he drew back just enough to reduce the intimacy, and responded, desperately trying to subdue the lust in his voice, “I am glad to be here, and I am very happy to see you, also,” but his thoughts were, _Seven hells! I cannot wait to return to Winterfell and my wife soon enough! I am sorely tempted to bed this willing woman!_ Ned was an honorable man and was in an awkward position, yet his mind strove mightily to overcome his carnal desires.

Ashara sensed both his physical and mental withdrawal, and realized what she had implied by her sensual embrace. She regained control of her senses and thought, _Lady Nym almost had me there! As much as I am attracted to him, what am I doing tempting a married man?! This is madness!_ She reluctantly loosened her arms, and the sexual tension between them slowly dissipated. They both sighed at the same time, and their eyes met. Reading each other’s thoughts, they grinned and laughed out loud.

Ned japed with a smile, “My lady, you are so beautiful, and I fear we almost embarrassed ourselves like heedless youths.”

She responded, also with a smile, “Yes, for a moment I felt like a maiden about to give herself freely to a handsome knight. I am almost sorry I did not! I know that Lady Nym will be disappointed with me.”

He laughed, “Yes, Lady Nym would be a wicked matchmaker. I can just imagine what kind of influence she has on my wild younger daughter, who obviously worships her.”

Ashara giggled, “For your own peace of mind, I recommend that you do not inquire. Suffice it to say that I do my best to prevent any major indiscretions.”

Ned sighed again, “I have four lads and two girls, and it is the girls by far that give me grey hairs. If one hates a man, wish for him to have several daughters.”

Laughing, she replied, “Posh, for all their trouble, you would not want a life without them.”

“You have the right of it. For all my complaints, I love them dearly.”

\--------------------------------------------

While they japed about family, Ashara noticed a familiar man separating himself from the entourage.

“Lord Stark, would that be Ser Barristan Selmy, the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard?”

“You are correct, that is Ser Barristan, but Queen Cersei dismissed him from his position in favor of her twin brother. If he had not come to our aid, I fear we would not have made it out of King’s Landing alive.”

Selmy strode purposefully towards Ashara, and when he arrived, he bowed formally to her, reached for her hand, and kissed it solemnly. He also addressed her formally, “Lady Ashara, may I be so bold to say that I am overjoyed beyond all measure to learn that you are alive. For many years I have sorrowed, and regretted your assumed death, and cursed myself for not being able to change the course of history.”

Ashara looked mystified, and asked, “What do you mean, Ser Barristan?”

“Do you recall that great tourney at Harrenhal?”

Ned immediately muttered darkly, “Who could possibly forget it?”

Ashara replied quietly, “That tourney marked more people than any recent event.”

Selmy continued, “The last tilt was between Prince Rhaegar and me. The Prince unseated me from my horse and crowned Lyanna Stark ‘queen of love and beauty’, not his own wife, and we all know the results of that act.”

Ned interjected, “To this day we suffer from that accursed event.”

“If I had been a better knight and had unseated Prince Rhaegar, I would have given the crown of roses to you. You see, I heard your laughter and saw your smile and immediately fell in love. With your long dark hair and purple eyes, you were by far the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. That memory has haunted me for my whole life. But alas, I was unseated, and Lyanna was chosen, and Robert’s Rebellion soon followed. I was a knight of the Kingsguard and sworn to celibacy, so all I could have done was to crown you, but that might have averted disaster.”

Ashara responded, shaken, “Ser Barristan, I am moved by your declaration. I do not know what to say.”

Ser Barristan spoke forcefully and earnestly, “I am no longer a knight of the Kingsguard, and if you are unwed, say only that you give me leave to court you now, because meeting you again propels me to not lose another minute, for I desire to spend the rest of my life with you!”

Ashara was speechless, but Lady Nym, who had crept closer out of curiosity, spoke up, “Yes! She is unwed, and had been needing a man to love for many years, and you are that man!”

Ashara looked at Nym, who was nodding her head vigorously at her, and darting her eyes towards Selmy. She took a deep breath, and said slowly, “Ser Barristan, I cannot hide my surprise at your confession, but I have long known your reputation as one of the most honorable knights in the Kingdom, and you served with my beloved brother, Ser Arthur Dayne. I give you leave to court me. Now will you please excuse me? I am overcome with emotion. Lady Nymeria, will you attend me?”

When they were out of earshot of Ned and Selmy, who were sheepishly grinning at each other, she hissed, “What have you gotten me into?!”

Nym was all smiles, “Come on! I saw how you and Lord Stark almost tore each other’s clothes off in plain sight of everyone! Even his daughters looked intrigued. Ned needs to get home to his wife, and you need a man! Selmy looks to be in good shape for his age, and he obviously has been in love with you for his whole life! I say give it a chance!”

Ashara looked doubtful, “What if I don’t meet his expectations?”

Nym chuckled, “He is so over the moon that I think you will have him in the palm of your hand. What do you have to lose?”

“By the gods, Lady Nym, I think your impulsiveness is rubbing off onto me. All right, I’ll see if we are compatible. You realize that he has at least ten more namedays than I do?”

“So what? He is trim and in fighting form. You could do worse!”

“I don’t know. I just never expected romance so late in life.”

“Pfft. Age means nothing when the heart is involved. There is one concern, though. It has been about twenty years since you bedded a man, even briefly, and since he joined the Kingsguard as a youth, I suspect that Selmy is still a maiden. Neither of you have any skill in the amorous arts. I’m not even sure that his equipment still works! You need to find that out quickly! Let me be your coach! If I spend about an hour with both of you, I can teach you at least six interesting positions.”

Ashara looked horrified, and blushed furiously, “Lady Nym! That is out of the question! I will not even discuss that!”

Nym was petulant, “So when you finally bumble around to the ‘sword and the sheath’, you are just going to be boring? That’s no fun at all! Let me help you!”

Ashara continued to blush, “Please, Nym, let it go! I have enough to ponder at the moment.”

Lady Nym pouted, “All right. But my offer stands. I’m getting excited just thinking about the two of you together. Mayhaps I need to find Bokko. Even Arya and Aegon have been having more fun than either of you.”

“Lady Nym! They haven’t been…………….? Umm, doing something they shouldn’t?”

“No, don’t fret; they are both too young for that. But they do have a healthy curiosity.”

“My head is spinning from all this talk, I need to sit down.”

“Let’s go have a drink of wine and toast your conquest!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am not making this up. Barristan Selmy was in love with Ashara. You can read his confession in “A Dance with Dragons”, Chapter 67 ‘The Kingbreaker’


	23. Sansa at Harrenhal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More romance and fluff.

Sansa and Jeyne Poole arrived at the Targaryen camp and were exploring the castle. Arya saw them as she left the training yard, sweaty, messy, disheveled, and with dirt on her face. Jeyne Poole took the opportunity to taunt her old quarry, “Well, if it isn’t Arya horseface, looking like a slovenly stable boy, as usual!”

Arya fixed the girl with a cold expression, and without saying a word, slapped her so hard with her left hand that Jeyne’s head spun around and she almost fell over. The wolf girl was on her in an instant. She reached up and grabbed the older girl by her throat, and pressed her dagger into her neck. A small amount of blood trickled down Jeyne’s throat. Arya told her harshly, “That is the last time you will ever disrespect me, bitch! I may accept your apology later, but right now you are nothing to me. If I see you again with your eyes raised to mine, I will open your throat!” She spun the surprised girl around, gave her a boot in the arse that almost knocked her over, and spit out, “Now get out of my sight!”

Septa Mordane was approaching, a frown on her face. Arya sternly told her, “You are no longer my septa, do not attempt to chastise me.” She jerked her chin towards a doorway. “You will find the castle steward over there. Take Jeyne and locate your assigned quarters. Leave me now or I will have choice words for you, too!”

The septa looked shocked, but Arya’s fierce expression frightened her, so she took Jeyne’s arm and left with her. Sansa, also shocked and wide-eyed, said, “Arya, wasn’t that extreme?”

Arya narrowed her eyes angrily at her sister, “For all the shit you two dumped on me in Winterfell, I should have stabbed her as soon as she opened her stupid mouth.” She wiped the bloody blade on her thigh, and jammed the dagger into her belt with murderous force. Sansa was taken aback and her expression was fearful. Arya looked hard at her sister, “We share blood and I will not threaten to do you harm, but I am a woman warrior now, and I will not suffer disrespect. At Winterfell, Mother, Septa Mordane, Jeyne, and you, all treated me like a freak because I did not act exactly as you did. Well, I have learned that I can do boy things and still be a normal girl. Lord Connington respects my skills and treats me well. Septa Lemore teaches me lady things without being condescending or insisting that I wear dresses. Lady Nym shows me how to be feminine and a fighter, too.”

At that moment, Arya realized that she would not be returning to Winterfell with her sister and father. _They would all treat me like a child again,_ she thought, _and I am no longer ‘Arya underfoot’. Mayhaps I will go to Dorne with Lady Nym and fight besides the Sand Snakes. Lord Connington appreciates my advice – mayhaps I’ll remain with Golden Company for a while. I could go to Braavos and study water dancing. I’ll miss Bran, but Jon is at the Wall – I can travel there by ship someday._ She tried to not to think on Aegon when considering her future, but she knew that would be impossible. In any case, she was certain now that she was moving on.

\---------------------------------------

Later, Sansa introduced Gendry to Arya, saying that he rescued her from a knight of the Kingsguard. He blushed and said that he wasn’t a soldier, but a smith, and was glad that he had been able to help. Arya also noticed the resemblance to King Robert, and mentioned this to Sansa after Gendry went to find the forge. Sansa decided that she would ask her father about Gendry. _If only he were a noble, I could invite him to tea and go riding with him. That would be fun!_

But Ned explained that Gendry was one of King Robert’s bastards. His face was sad as he told her, “I loved Robert dearly, but he had no honor. He left bastards all over Westeros, with no regard for their welfare or for their mothers. Gendry’s mother was a poor tavern wench in Flea Bottom, the nastiest district in King’s Landing. However, the Lords Arryn and Varys knew of his existence, and hid him away on the Street of Steel, apprenticed to the finest armorer there. The Lannisters killed every one of the King’s bastards they could find, and death would have been Gendry’s fate if they had discovered him. Varys asked me to take him out of the city for his safety. Gendry may be King Robert’s oldest living son.”

But Sansa looked crestfallen, “But he is illegitimate. My lady mother would say that he is a bad person, and she would never let us be friends.”

Ned sighed, thinking, _Why, Catelyn? Why did you pass your ugly prejudice to your tender daughter?_ He told her, “Tell me honestly, Sansa, if you did not know that your brother Jon was a bastard, how would you think on him?”

“Well,” she replied, trying to be truthful for her father, “Mother did frown on him, but he is just like Robb – brave and noble and honest and humble. They are very much alike.”

“That is correct, daughter. Jon would be as good a Lord of Winterfell as Robb will be. Do not think poorly of Jon or Gendry simply because they are bastards. They are not responsible for the manner of their birth, and it does not determine how good they can be, except that they are embarrassed about the fact because unkind people draw attention to it. Gendry may be a bastard, but from what I have seen, he is a good lad.”

Sansa recalled how handsome he was, and how comfortable and safe she felt with him on their long horseback ride. “Father, can Gendry improve his station?”

Ned considered, “Well, if he performs great deeds during a war and becomes knighted, he would be Ser Gendry, and would be welcomed by noble folk. There is also the matter of him being the oldest natural son of the deceased king. Some would like to have him legitimized by a king, and appoint him Lord Baratheon of the Stormlands. But that would only happen in one of your fairy tales, sweetling.” He smiled at his romantic daughter, “You would like to consort with a Ser or Lord Gendry, wouldn’t you, Sansa? I saw how you looked at him on the ride here.”

Sansa blushed intensely, and said, “Now you are embarrassing me, father, and I don’t want to talk about it anymore. I need to find Jeyne; I think she needs my attention.”

\------------------------------------

Later Sansa met Prince Aegon, and forgot all about Gendry for the moment. Arya introduced Aegon as the future king of Westeros. She announced with pride in her voice, “As Lord Connington’s ward, it has been _my_ responsibility to help prepare Aegon for his role. We study and spar together all the time.” Now the wolf girl smirked, “He will be a much better king than that evil, cowardly, little shit prince of yours would ever be.”

Sansa could not meet her sister’s eyes, and looked at the ground, saying, “Not anymore. I despise Joffrey Baratheon. He showed me how awful he really is.”

Aegon welcomed her very politely, and kissed her hand. Sansa was impressed by the prince, and any lingering thoughts of Prince Joffrey disappeared. His attractive face was open and friendly, and his conversation indicated an intelligent and sensitive mind. She thought, _He is as handsome and regal as the fabled Targaryen kings of old!_ Sansa’s eyes shone as she studied Aegon, and she gave him her sweetest smile. Then she noticed that her sister was frowning. Sansa also saw that a lovely golden necklace had been exposed from Arya’s tunic, which had opened wider when she fought Jeyne. She had never known her sister to value jewelry, and she was intrigued, remarking, “That is beautiful necklace, sister, and I love that delicate garnet.”

“It is a gift from Aegon, and it represents our friendship,” the wolf girl proudly replied.

The prince narrowed his eyes, looked hard at Arya, and said, “It represents _more_ than just friendship!”

Arya appeared very uncomfortable as the prince continued to stare at her. Sansa recalled that Arya had previously told her that she felt like a normal girl, just one who could do boy things. It struck Sansa suddenly: _Arya has captured the heart of this Prince and she knows it!_ Romantic Sansa’s eyes went wide and she put her hand over her mouth, saying, “Aaaryaaa!”

Arya looked even more uncomfortable, and muttered, “You are both sentimental dunces!” and she quickly walked away.

Sansa watched Aegon as he watched Arya leave. The prince turned to her and said wistfully, “Your sister won’t admit it, but she will miss me as much as I will miss her when she leaves for Winterfell with you. During the time we have been together, we have grown very close.”

Sansa’s mind was filled with butterflies and rainbows and unicorns and knights in shining armor and ladies with flowing gowns, and all she could think was, _Oh my! My wild little sister and a prince, imagine that!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have laid out Arya’s choices, but it remains to be seen which path she will take.


	24. Arya and Sansa

Previously:

Arya looked hard at her sister, “We share blood and I will not threaten to do you harm, but I am a woman warrior now, and I will not suffer disrespect. At Winterfell, Mother, Septa Mordane, Jeyne, and you, all treated me like a freak because I did not act exactly as you did. Well, I have learned that I can do boy things and still be a normal girl. Lord Connington respects my skills and treats me well. Septa Lemore teaches me lady things without being condescending or insisting that I wear dresses. Lady Nym shows me how to be feminine and a fighter, too.”

\-----------------------------------------------

After her confrontation with Sansa and Jeyne, Arya approached the Sand Snake, “Lady Nym, make me beautiful, I want to make my sister envious.”

Nym appeared thoughtful, and looked over at Sarra, her handmaiden; a lovely maiden of four and ten namedays. Sarra enjoyed having Lady Nym as a mentor, but was not interested in swordplay. However, she did have a head for politics, intrigue, and seduction. “Sarra, did you bring the green silk robes that you used to attract the attention of that handsome squire in Dorne?”

“Yes, it is a very effective outfit for persuasion.”

“Let us see if we can alter it enough for Arya to sport it. Mayhaps it will be as successful for her as for you.”

Ashara brushed Arya’s long hair until it shone, weaved two thin, braids on either sides of her face, and joined them behind her head. Nym subtly made up her face with great skill. Ashara wondered, “Lady Nym, is this the right thing to do, for a girl so young?”

Nym responded with a smile, “Don’t worry, as young as she is, Arya can take care of herself.”

Lord Jon had arranged a small dinner to welcome the refugees from King’s Landing, not wanting to attract much attention. Connington, Ned, Ashara , Selmy, Nym, Sansa, Jeyne, and some Golden Company officers, were seated at a long table, talking, when Arya entered on the arm of Prince Aegon, who wore the most pleased expression on his face. Her long brown hair was loose and flowing down her back, her new braids framed her face, the green silks were shining, her eyes and lashes were darkened with enough kohl to accentuate them, and her lips were colored with a deep pink wax that gave her mouth a shapely appearance. She wore her golden sand snake on her arm, and Aegon’s necklace was conspicuous. In contrast to the rest of her outfit, Arya still wore her menacing blades. Sansa and Jeyne appeared speechless at the sight of this beautiful and dangerous Arya they had never seen before. Ned looked around the hall, and saw that Homeless Harry and a young squire were gaping. As Aegon escorted her to a nearby seat, Ned turned to her. “Are you my daughter, or has a spirit invaded her body? I do not know you!”

She smiled, “Yes, I am your real daughter, Father. I just wanted those cows to realize that they have nothing on me!” She jerked her chin towards Sansa and Jeyne, whose jaws had dropped and remained that way for a while.

Ned said, “They are not the only ones you have affected.”

Arya then noticed the two familiar males who continued to stare at her, transfixed. “Homeless Harry is just lonely, and Squire Adrian, well, Father, if you receive a raven from Ser Balman Byrch, please ignore it. Lady Nym taught me that beauty can be used as a weapon. However, to those bitches, my appearance today should be a weapon of intimidation. They should fear me, and not just for the steel in my belt,” she put her hands lightly on the pommels of Needle and her dagger.

He replied, “Well, you certainly have made an impression.”

“Yes, I am not ‘Arya underfoot’ anymore. Listen, Father, I have something important to tell you. Aegon, this concerns you, too.”

Ned’s eyebrows went up, and he looked mystified.

“I am not returning to Winterfell with you and Sansa. My plans are not certain yet, but back home I would be my lady mother’s child again, and I cannot abide that life anymore. I may remain Lord Connington’s ward, as he has become a most open-minded mentor to me.”

Aegon looked pleased when he heard this. Arya continued, “Or I may become an apprentice to Lady Nym and travel with her. I may go to the Free Cities of Essos and further my water dancing. I do not know where my path leads me, but it is not north right now.”

Ned responded, “You said that you were going to _tell_ me your plans, not _discuss_ them.”

“That’s right. I have made my decision. I will not be traveling with you, and I will not be dissuaded otherwise.”

“Your lady mother will be very disappointed, and you can only imagine how I feel.”

“My mother does not know me anymore, and she never appreciated what I found to be important, either. We would just fight, anyway. I will miss _you_ though, Father, and I promise to visit,” and she kissed him on the cheek, leaving an imprint of her lips. Aegon put his hand over his mouth to hide a snicker. “Now let’s eat. I’m as hungry as a wolf after all this talk!”

\------------------------------------------

Arya decided to solve two problems with one solution by arranging an unexpected romance. She consulted with the mistress of matchmaking, Lady Nym, and devised a plan. With Aegon in her company, she brought Sansa to the Harrenhal library with the intention of showing her its impressive collection of books. Arya also sent word for Squire Adrian to meet her there. Arya prepared carefully for the meeting. She came directly from the practice yard, and was dirty, muddy, and smelly. She also had twigs in her hair, and a small amount manure from the stables on her boots. When the squire arrived, she introduced him to her sister. Sansa observed that the friendly, attractive young nobleman was close to her age and she favored him with a big smile. As they traded pleasantries, Arya took a swig of hard cider from a wineskin and belched loudly. Aegon looked puzzled, but Sansa and Adrian were aghast.

The messy wolf girl addressed her companions as she plopped a large and dusty old tome on a table. “Look at this! Prince Aegon and I found a book that explains many of the torture devices we found down in the castle dungeon. We are going to take the book and see if we can operate them. The machines are still covered with blood! Do you want to come with us?”

Sansa and Adrian appeared to be revolted, and shook their heads. Arya told them, “Well, if you don’t want to come, there is a whole section in the library devoted to songs and poetry, right over here. Look, here’s a book about Florian and Jonquil; I’ve heard both of you talk about them. And here’s another about Lady Shella and the Rainbow Knight, and another about Prince Aemon’s tragedy. You like this stuff, don’t you?”

Sansa nodded her head vigorously, and Adrian, looking at her lovely face, followed suit.

“Why don’t you check these out, while Aegon and I go down to the dungeons?”

Squire Adrian looked at Sansa again, and then gave Arya another lingering glance. Arya decided that he needed more persuasion. She took another swig of cider and belched Aegon’s name, “Aaaaaaegooon!” Both Adrian and Aegon were shocked, but Arya seemed very pleased with herself. “That was a good one!”

Aegon shook his head ruefully and said, “Sometimes I wonder what I see in you.”

Arya grinned wickedly and replied, “You can’t resist my eyes. You are enslaved to my eyes. Come now, let’s go to the dungeon.” Her gaze returned to Sansa and Adrian. “I assume that you two would rather stay here?”

Sansa and Adrian nodded again, while leaning over a hand-painted drawing of a knight in one of the book that Arya had shown them. Arya was pleased to see that their heads were already close together.

After they left the library, Aegon seemed uncomfortable, and asked, “Do you really want to go look at bloody torture devices again?”

“Not really. But wait, are you afraid?”

“No! I’m not afraid! Wait a minute! You are teasing me again, aren’t you?”

“Of course, I’m always testing your courage.”

“More likely you are trying to make me crazy.”

“That, too. I have a lot of fun teasing you.”

“You are as bad as Lady Nym.”

“Oooh, thank you for the compliment! I will have to tell her that.”

“That was not meant to be a compliment!”

“Well, I’m still going to take it as one. Come on, let’s go swimming, I am filthy and want to clean up.”

“Just don’t go pulling all your clothes off and getting us in trouble again. Let’s change first.”

Arya laughed, “Posh, have I ever really gotten you in trouble? Not yet, but just you wait! Lady Nym has some ideas for us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Gendry in Harrenhal


	25. Gendry

Lord Connington approached Ned and gravely said, “Lord Stark, I am not comfortable with the son of the Usurper residing in this castle.”

Ned replied, “We have had a similar conversation before. I do not want to hold innocent children responsible for the sins of the fathers. Gendry has no connection to Robert besides being of his seed. I plan to take him with me to Winterfell and raise him as one would the orphaned child of a dear friend. I will give the lad a choice. He can continue his apprenticeship with my smith, or he can study with my sons to prepare for knighthood or lordship. If he chooses lordship, I am convinced that we will have a dependable ally if he eventually becomes lord of the Stormlands, and not an adversary.”

Conn: “Well, I guess I can put up with him for a little while if he is going to Winterfell soon. But that does not mean that I approve of his presence.”

“From what I have seen, he is a good lad, and you shouldn’t have a problem with him. Besides, he was instrumental in saving my daughter Sansa’s life from Meryn Trant, and I owe him a debt.”

\-------------------------------------

After his introduction to Harrenhal, Gendry made himself comfortable in the forge. He liked to keep busy, so he immediately set to work on the swords and armor that needed repairing. Blackthumb, the smith in residence, was a lazy man, and was delighted that Gendry wanted to temporarily take over his job. He made himself scarce and spent his time drinking ale with his friends of the castle guard. Gendry became immersed in his work, and after a few days, he looked up in surprise to see Prince Aegon standing in the smithy, studying him. Gendry was only slightly older than Aegon, but Gendry was much larger and had a more powerful build.

Aegon scowled, “Your father killed my father. I am troubled by your presence here.”

Gendry bowed his head and responded, “Your grace, that tragedy has nothing to do with me. All King Robert did for me is fuck my mother and then leave her to fate. I suppose I should be happy to be alive, but being born a bastard has not been a bed of roses. I did not even know that I was the King’s bastard until a few months ago, and I only learned that because I was told that the Lannisters wanted to kill me! Prince Aegon, please do not think of me as your enemy, I have no wish for that.”

Aegon was an honest youth, and slowly responded, “There really is no personal reason for you to be my enemy, and I would not wish it.”

Gendry saw that the prince was struggling with his feelings, and sought to defuse the situation. He smiled and said, “Besides, we both have Stark daughters as friends, and the sisters would not want for us to have differences.”

Aegon haltingly returned the smile, “Mayhaps you are right, Lady Arya would be wroth with me if I were angry with you for no reason. She is most severe about using common sense, and would see no possible quarrel between us.”

Gendry replied, “I have only met Lady Sansa’s younger sister briefly. The soldiers speak about the ‘wolf girl’ in camp. She certainly does not seem like a proper lady, but she must be a very unusual person.”

\------------------------------

Ned came to the forge and spoke to Gendry. “If you like, you may travel on to Winterfell with us, and I would like for you to think about your future. If you want to continue your apprenticeship in the forge, my armorer, Mikken, will direct you. He may not be Tobho Mott, but he is very capable. However, you are the natural son of a lord of a Great House of Westeros, and you deserve the opportunity to prepare for a noble role. I cannot promise that you will become a lord, but you will be eligible to achieve a knighthood, if you desire it. Do you have any idea what you would like to do?”

Gendry looked bewildered, “Lordship? Knighthood? Milord, I am only a Flea Bottom bastard, and I never, ever considered what you are suggesting!”

Ned looked at him kindly, “Nevertheless, you are the son of my dearest, and now deceased friend and I owe you the opportunity to improve your life. You appear to have a good head on your shoulders, and you may attend lessons with my maester and master-at-arms. My boys will spar with you, and you will learn to wield a sword as well as craft one. Gendry, do you know your sums and letters?”

“Only enough to read work orders and calculate measurements, milord. I have not read any books.”

“It makes no matter, Maester Luwin will see to your education.” Ned paused and smiled at Gendry, “And one of my children is already concerned about your vocational choice.”

The lad was mystified. “Milord?”

Lord Stark could not help but chuckle as he recollected his conversation with Sansa. “My older daughter inquired about you, and was hoping that you would be a suitable companion. What do you think, Gendry, would you like to have Sansa for a friend?”

Gendry blushed and stuttered, embarrassed because thoughts of how the beautiful girl had smiled at him _were_ on his mind. “Milord, Lady Sansa is a highborn lady! It would be improper for me to speak to her as an equal!”

“Nonsense, Gendry, you are a member of my household now, my children will welcome you as a sibling. Just be careful around my younger daughter, Arya the wolf girl, she is inclined to bite if harassed.”

“Milord? I don’t understand.”

Ned laughed, “Just an inside jape, Gendry. You will know of which I speak soon enough.”

\--------------------------------------------

Gendry was concentrating on a particularly difficult dent in a breastplate when he looked up and was surprised to see a messy young stableboy in his forge. But the lad had too many weapons shoved into his belt to be a stableboy, so he assumed it was a squire with a repair order for him. But the squire’s gaze passed from his face to the swords scattered around the smithy, and he noticed that the youth actually had an attractive feminine face and large grey eyes. Gendry realized that this visitor was the wolf girl, lady Sansa’s unusual younger sister, who he had only met briefly when he entered the camp. He remembered hearing that she was known to spar like a lad of her age and had an interest in swords. Gendry ducked his head in deference, and said, “Milady, I did not hear you enter.”

The girl’s eyes flashed and she immediately retorted, “Don’t call me milady!”

Gendry looked confused, “But you are Lady Sansa’s sister!”

“Yes, I am, but just call me Arya. I am not a lady.”

Gendry was puzzled by the intruder. She had a toothy, but attractive smile, and spoke with the confidence, bearing, and education of a highborn girl. _Why would she deny her title?_ He was intrigued and watched her carefully as she gracefully moved around the room, occasionally picking up a sword and testing its balance. Then she approached him and examined his recent work, including the breastplate. _She is judging me!_

When she was done, Arya looked at him with approval. She smiled and said, “Very good workmanship. I know something about smithing from watching Mikken at Winterfell. Here, this is the sword that he made for me.” Arya carefully presented Needle to him.

Gendry admired the beautiful, almost delicate, sword, observing, _This Mikken is a real craftsman. I look forward to meeting him._ “This sword is sharp, light, and well-balanced, mila…., I mean Arya. It was obviously made to be your personal weapon. However, it is not a typical Westerosi sword, but appears to be of a foreign design.”

Arya looked pleased with his deduction, and replied, “You are correct, Needle is modeled after a Braavosi rapier, and is not meant for slashing and hacking, but for a fighting style called the Braavosi water dance.” She demonstrated a long sequence of steps with Needle, thrusting, parrying, dodging, swaying, and maneuvering.

Gendry was entranced, thinking, _Lady Arya is right! It is truly like a dance, and she is such a graceful dancer! I have never seen swordplay performed so beautifully!_ He realized that this was no ordinary girl. She was serious about becoming a fighter, and had no patience with the behavior expected of highborn ladies. The young smith was now intrigued, and observed Arya closely. Her long brown braid had swayed seductively as she danced, and her eyes were penetrating and lovely. In her boyish breeches and tunic, she presented a strange appearance for a lady, but for all that, she was a very pretty girl. Gendry thought about what he had heard from others; that she was tough, fierce, and independent; and now he knew why Lord Stark had japed about his ‘wolf girl’ daughter. He realized that he was fascinated with his new acquaintance.

As Arya danced, she studied Gendry. He was very masculine, with a square jaw, broad shoulders, and muscular arms. His eyes were a captivating bright blue, and in contrast, he had glossy black shoulder-length hair. _He looks so much like King Robert, but he is more handsome. No wonder Sansa imagines him as the knight of her dreams as Father has japed._ Gendry was clean-shaven, but his chin was dark, she noted with approval. _I expect that he could grow a thick beard like one of our Northern bannermen._

But as Gendry was mulling over his thoughts of Arya, she startled him by saying “You know, you could fuck Sansa if you wanted to. At dinner, all she talks about with her friend Jeyne is how handsome you are and how pleased she is that you are coming to Winterfell.”

The young smith protested, “She is a lady! How can you talk about your sister like that?”

Arya mocked him, “Well, if you don’t have the nerve to try to bed her, you should at least kiss her.”

Gendry asks, “Milad….Arya, why are you speaking so coarsely about your sister?”

The wolf girl smirked, “I’d love to see my ‘oh so perfect sister’ get into trouble. It would be great if Septa Mordane saw her shamelessly groping you in the Godswood.”

Now Gendry shook his head with a frown, “You would get me in trouble, too.”

She laughed, “Father would excuse you. He knows that Sansa likes you, and he would prefer you to that awful Joffrey. Besides, he is fond of you because you remind him of his best friend and childhood companion.”

Gendry shook his head again, “I still think that you a troublemaker, and I don’t trust you. What kind of lady are you?”

Arya grinned, “The bad kind.”

He was about to return to his work, when she spoke again. “I actually came here for a reason. I’d like you to craft a direwolf cloak clasp for Prince Aegon. You can use Nymeria as a model, and give the face golden eyes of glass beads.”

Gendry saw his opportunity to disquiet Arya. “The direwolf is the sigil of your House, is it not? Is this to be a special gift?”

The wolf girl looked a little uncomfortable. “The prince is my close friend.” She reached into her tunic and pulled out her necklace. “He gave me this in remembrance of our friendship, and I would like to return the favor.”

Gendry recalled that the prince had made a point of stating that he considered Arya’s thoughts to be important. He inspected the necklace carefully and smiled at her, “This is too fine a piece of jewelry to merely represent friendship. Is he your betrothed?” He waggled his eyebrows, “Are you in love with him? Do you swoon when he smiles at you? I wager that you are excited about marrying a prince!”

Arya blushed and was clearly embarrassed. She tried to sidestep his questions, and angrily retorted, “No! We are not betrothed! I am not going to marry him! We are just friends! I don’t want to discuss this anymore! Just make the damned clasp!”

She gave him a scowl that could wither a flower and stormed out of the smithy. Gendry chuckled to himself, thinking, _Lord Stark has very interesting daughters, I wonder what the sons are like?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I first brought up the idea of not holding children responsible for the actions of their parents in Chapter 6, ‘A Visitor’, before the concept appeared in Season 7, Episode One.


	26. Arya and Gendry

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There will a few more fluffy chapters before I return to politics with the “War Council”.

Chapter 26 Arya and Gendry

When Arya would find a free moment between all her lessons, she would explore the countryside around Harrenhal. She was too restless a spirit to constantly remain within the walls of a castle, and had to bust out once in a while. On one trip she discovered an orchard of ripe apple trees being harvested, and came back to tell Aegon. She found him in the library, quietly playing old songs on his harp. Sansa, Jeyne, and Squire Adrian were also present and the group was surrounded by open books. When Arya arrived, they were all enthusiastically discussing romantic literature and songs, and tales of knights and ladies. Obviously no one would be interested in her outdoor adventure. Arya listened for a while, contributing very little, and then excused herself.

She wandered around the castle for a while after leaving the library, and then went to the smithy. After her first visit to the forge when she asked Gendry to craft a cloak clasp for Aegon, Arya returned frequently. She was friends with Mikken, the smith at Winterfell, who, instead of telling her that a highborn lady had no business at the forge, patiently answered her questions and gave her small tasks to do. Mikken was glad to entertain a child so interested in his work, and treated her like a boy, a simple thing, but something Arya treasured. Hullen, master of horse at Winterfell, had also handled Arya the same way, and she became familiar with the stables. Little ‘Arya underfoot’ was a favorite of the smallfolk, and had great rapport with the castle staff. Therefore, it was no surprise that Arya quickly made friends with Gendry, and helped out around the smithy whenever she had the time.

At first, she mainly came with Nymeria, so Gendry could makes sketches that would help him design Aegon’s wolf cloak clasp. He drew front and side views of Nymeria’s head, and full body side views also. He did not tell Arya, but he had a secret plan to make a wolf brooch for Lady Sansa (hoping that he would be rewarded with an appreciative smile for the gift), and, as he came to know her better, something nice for the friendly wolf girl.

Eventually Arya came to the smithy without Nymeria as an excuse because she saw in Gendry a big brother figure, one she had missed since leaving Winterfell. At home, she had spent as much time as possible with her two older brothers, and her father’s ward, Theon Greyjoy. They did not rebuff her, and Arya enjoyed sharing their activities, such as sparring, riding, hunting, swimming, climbing, and exploring. Her septa and her lady mother deplored this, but her father said not to interfere, that Arya needed to find her place in the world, and forcing her into a gown and insisting that she act like a girl would only make everyone miserable. When she first came to the Targaryen camp, Aegon had served as her big brother, but their relationship had now evolved into something quite different, and she needed to replace Robb and Jon in her life.

Gendry was amused by Arya and wondered why the daughter of the Lord of one of the seven Great Houses of Westeros, and Warden of the largest kingdom, was more comfortable and happy when dirty and dressed in boy’s clothing. He had grown up without siblings, and treated Arya as the little brother he never had, japing and teasing and teaching. He was also aware that she was kind of a little sister, too, and listened to her carefully when she needed a sympathetic ear. Arya opened up to him about how badly Sansa and Jeyne had treated her at Winterfell, and how much it had hurt her. Jeyne had since apologized profusely to her, and stayed out of her way, but that did not negate the pain that Arya suffered as a ridiculed tomboy. Gendry did his best to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with her, and that she had nothing to feel guilty about, as a good brother would.

He was also aware that try as she may to appear boyish, she was obviously a very pretty girl who was destined to grow into a beautiful young woman. Gendry thought it was cute how she was crushing on the Prince, yet would not talk about it, even though it was obvious that Prince Aegon thought the world of her. Sometimes when he reflected on his unusual new friend, he was startled to consider that, under the right circumstances, she could end up the queen of Westeros.

When she arrived at the forge after leaving the library, Gendry was working hard, shirtless in the heat as usual, and Arya said, “Gendry, put me to work.” He looked at her curiously and then nodded, pointing with his chin at an empty bucket of water.

After a while, when she was hot and dirty from fetching water and pumping the bellows, Gendry finally asked, “So what’s on your mind? You look like you want to talk.” 

“Well,” she slowly said as if it were a confession, “I was just in the library with Aegon, Sansa, Jeyne, and Adrian, and they were singing and talking about poetry and such stuff. I was uncomfortable and felt like I was intruding. Aegon sang ‘The Rains of Castamere’ and then read a poem he wrote about his ancestor, Aegon Dragonlord, and his dragon Balerion. Sansa and Jeyne were all starry-eyed and worshipful, and I didn’t like the way they looked at him.”

Gendry grinned, “You’re jealous! Admit it!”

Arya shrugged, “All right, I don’t mind telling _you_ that I like Aegon a lot. But that’s not what really bothers me. All that romantic poetry and music bores me, I like stories that involves fighting and action and dirty songs that soldiers sing around a campfire.”

She paused and bit her lip self-consciously, “I like studying history with Aegon and talking about famous battles, but I get nothing out poetry and serious music. I don’t want the difference in interests to affect our friendship.”

Gendry looked thoughtful, and responded, “I think Prince Aegon probably understands that, and accepts that you are different from other girls.”

Arya looked doubtful, “You don’t think it really matters?”

He replied, “If both of you shared the exact same interests, _that_ would be boring! I think that you both make things interesting for each other.”

That did not mollify her. “But they are all so formally dressed and refined, and I wear leathers and have weapons in my belt as if I’m spoiling for a fight all the time.”

Gendry figured that he needed to lighten the mood. He laughed and pushed her shoulder, “You are naturally just an uncouth little urchin, not a highborn lady!”

She pushed him back, but barely moved the big youth, while grinning, “So what! So are you, you Flea Bottom brat!”

Impulsively, Gendry laughed and grabbed her right arm. “Well, if you are going to insult _me_ , I am going to tickle _you_!” He tickled her ribs and she started giggling and squirming, while putting her leg between both of his and tripping him. They both fell to the floor of the smithy, arms and legs all tangled up.

Arya shouted, “I know this game!” and tickled him under his arms experimentally and was rewarded with nervous laughter from Gendry as he tried to squirm away. He released her other arm, and their hands were flying everywhere, trying to find ticklish spots on each other’s body. Laughing hysterically, they rolled around on the floor, knocking over chairs and a small table. Their arms and legs were all entangled, and they played the game for a while, giggling all the time. Suddenly they both realized that they were hot and sweaty and their faces were close enough together for their mouths to easily kiss and their hands had been close to intimate places. Arya had stripped down to her thin, sleeveless undershirt for helping in the forge, and Gendry normally worked bare-chested. Her hands had been all over his chest and back, and she got an unexpected thrill when she touched the soft black hairs covering his torso, all the way down to his waist. His hands had rested on her back and then moved over her smooth stomach where her shirt had been hiked up, and had skimmed over the laces of her breeches, which had slipped down past her narrow hips. They both looked alarmed and instantly broke the contact, with very self-conscious expressions on their faces.

Gendry looked genuinely embarrassed, “Lady Arya, I should not have touched you like that. Please forgive me!”

Arya was blushing, but soon recovered her composure. “Nonsense! Did you have fun?”

He replied reluctantly, also blushing, “Yes, I liked that very much.”

“Well, so did I! And that’s all that matters! Don’t get all weird on me!”

Gendry nodded, not knowing what to say at this point, bewildered by the fiery wolf girl, noticing that her eyes were large and grey as storm clouds, and her wild hair, which was coming loose from her braid and framing her face, was lovely. She was alluring and frightening at the same time, and his mind was muddled and confused.

Arya squeezed his arm familiarly and said, “Let’s get back to work. That will make things normal again.”

The young smith nodded again, and they took up the tasks they were doing before all the mischief started. They found themselves eying one another when each thought the other was preoccupied, and both thought, _What just happened? I feel so funny!_

Gendry was still distracted and had to focus hard not to drop the hammer on his foot, thinking, _Are **both** of Lord Stark’s daughters enchantresses sent to tempt me? Now both Sansa **and** Arya are on my mind! I feel like I am completely out of my league!_

Later Ned came with a work order, and seeing Arya there, said, “What’s this, Gendry, do you have a new assistant?” He did not understand why Gendry was blushing so hard when he replied that Arya really knew her way around a forge. Later, on reflection, Ned realized that Gendry’s embarrassment was identical to Aegon’s the first time they met. He thought, _Can my wild little one have ensnared **another** young man?! I don’t really want to know – the affairs of the hearts of both my daughters will make me crazy! I will be happy when they are both wed and become problems for other men, not me!_ But as he deliberated, he began to worry. Arya had often reminded him of his dear sister Lyanna, whose spirit and beauty had attracted the attention of both a Targaryen and a Baratheon. He hoped that history was not repeating itself.

Meanwhile, Arya was very confused by her encounter with Gendry. _That was so much fun and **so** exciting! It was as much fun as tickling Aegon. But Gendry is so big and strong, and I liked the way he held me. I liked running my hands over his chest. And the way he looked at me when we were close enough to kiss, I felt all funny inside. I thought only Aegon made me feel that way. I better ask Lady Nym about this! I don’t know what to think!_

\-------------------------------------------

Arya found Nym in the chamber she sometimes shared with the other Dornish ladies and their handmaidens. Lady Nym noticed that Arya appeared troubled, and asked, “Arya, did you want to speak to me?”

The wolf girl bit her lip and spoke haltingly, “Lady Nym, I have played the ‘Princess Xena and Gabrielle tickling game’ with you and Sarra and Aegon and now Gendry, and I can say that it really is the most fun with boys. The game was intense and thrilling with both of them, and it left me not sure which one I like more. I feel so confused!”

Nym was grinning from ear to ear because Arya wanted to discuss her favorite topic, seduction. “You must be talking about that handsome young smith I have recently seen in the castle. Sarra has been drooling over him, and I’m not surprised that you find him attractive, too. He looks so delicious that I have thought of toying with him myself, but by the way he blushes when any female accosts him, it is obvious that he is a maiden, and I don’t want to ruin him for life.”

Arya looked shocked, “But Lady Nym, Gendry has only four and ten namedays! Surely he is too young for you!”

The Sand Snake laughed, “Don’t worry, Arya, I won’t attack your dear smith’s virtue, however, I can’t say it is safe from Sarra!”

Arya gave the lovely handmaiden a glance. She was older than both Sansa and Arya, and she wondered if Gendry would be susceptible to Sarra’s charms. She also wondered why she was so concerned about Gendry’s ‘virtue’, whatever that was.

Nym took up the topic again, “Arya, in order to solve your dilemma, you must do like the maesters in Oldtown, and conduct an experiment. You will approach both lads individually and kiss them thoroughly, and afterwards analyze your feelings. That is how you will determine which one you like the best.”

Now Arya looked thoughtful, and then brightly said, “Right!” and made to leave the chamber.

Lady Nym stopped her and said, “Wait! Look at yourself, you are bristling with weapons. You look like you are going to stab, not kiss, someone! Get rid of your blades, in fact, change into silks right now.”

Arya removed her clothes and reached for the silk robes that were offered. Nym said, “Sarra, give Arya some lace-edged linen smallclothes, too.” Lady Nym loosened Arya’s hair from her usual braid, and brushed it out. Finally, she brushed a small amount of kohl on her eyelids. Nym winked at the girl, and grinned, “Now, my lady spider, go weave your web and see who you ensnare.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To readers of ASoIaF, I have two words: Acorn Hall.


	27. Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter got away from me, it is long and _very_ fluffy.

Gendry’s work day was over, and he felt nice and clean after thoroughly washing up. Dinner in the Great Hall was next on his agenda, and he really enjoyed the camaraderie. Occasionally, when he glanced at the high table, Lady Sansa would favor him with a big smile. He was considering what to wear when he heard the thin curtain that separated the forge from his sleeping quarters swish, and turning he saw Arya standing there. Normally he had found himself amused by the little lady who masqueraded as a squire and tried to be as boyish as possible, but now she was a stunning vision attired in lovely Dornish robes, her long chestnut hair loose and cascading down her back, and her eyes smoldering like glowing coals. He found it hard to believe that Squire Arya and Lady Arya were the same person. Capturing his gaze intently, she glided up to him and placed one hand on his bare chest and the other on his cheek. “Tell me truly, Gendry, the last time I was here, you wanted to kiss me, didn’t you?”

Gendry was mesmerized and could not help but be honest with this temptress. “Yes, I wanted to kiss you badly. I could not think of anything else when we were so close together and holding each other.”

“Well, I wanted to kiss you, too, and I think we should kiss now to see if those feelings had more meaning.” Arya leaned closely and stretched her neck so that her lips could meet his. Gendry hesitated for a minute, but then desire took over, and he wrapped her in his arms, and pressed his slightly opened lips against hers. Arya wasted no time and plunged her tongue into his mouth and began to explore. Gendry was surprised and realized that although she had fewer namedays, she had more experience in kissing. He followed her lead, and gripping her tighter, tangled his tongue with hers.

His body was as warm as a fire, and she thrilled at how strong he was. She wanted to feel his chest against her skin, and impulsively let her silks fall away.

Gendry leaned back and gazed on her ivory skin, and also saw her underwear. He had never seen such fancy smallclothes in his life and marveled at the sight. But he was unnerved by the fact that her hips were narrow and the delicate smallclothes appeared dangerously close to sliding completely down her legs. He began to worry, _If Lord Stark walked in and saw me with his naked daughter in my arms, he would geld me for certain!_ But he was much too committed to stop now.

He noticed that her legs were long, and not as skinny as one might expect of a girl of her age, and realized that she will mature into a tall, athletic beauty like that Lady Nymeria who often shot him lascivious, discombobulating glances in the dining hall.

Arya whispered, “Don’t stop,” and pressed against him for another kiss. She thought that she could get lost in his arms and wanted more contact. Gendry obliged, and now that he knew what he was doing, he gave her as deep a kiss as she wanted, pressing his body firmly against her. The intimate kiss was clouding her mind in the most delightful way, and the pressure of his body against hers was electrifying. She realized that Gendry had become a stallion, in fact, the biggest stallion she could imagine aside from the horse she saw at Winterfell. She was intrigued, and wanted to ask him if she could see his cock, but remembered from experience that boys got all shy whenever she did that, and she didn’t want to disrupt the mood. Eventually they broke apart, panting and satisfied, eyes glowing as they looked at each other. Arya continued to brush the hairs on his chest, and murmured, “Did you like kissing me?”

Gendry wanted to say that he thought that he had died and gone to heaven, but merely responded, “Yes, very much. That was wonderful.”

Arya was pulling on her silks now, and abruptly had become business-like. “I enjoyed kissing you immensely, too, and I wonder if it is different than kissing Aegon. I want to find him and compare kisses. You need to kiss Sansa and see if you like her better than me. That way we will have a better idea of what we mean to each other.”

Gendry looked confused, “What are you suggesting?”

Arya asked, “That was your first kiss, wasn’t it?”

Gendry nodded, and the wolf girl continued, “Well, you can’t judge how much you like someone unless you have compared kissing other people. That is the obvious thing to do.” Gendry pondered, _So now after totally molesting me, Arya wants me to woo her sister? I don’t know if I can handle all this!_

Before she passed through the curtain, she turned around once more, and said, “Oh, and by the way, you must shave more closely before I kiss you again. The stubble on your chin will make my cheeks red and irritated. You will embarrass Sansa also, if you mark her.”

Gendry shook his head. _Before I kiss you again……… What has she gotten me into?!_

\-----------------------------------------

It was lunchtime in the Harrenhal dining hall, and Sansa was wearing a pretty gown with a low cut neckline, exposing her modest cleavage. Septa Mordane had disapproved of the dress, and Sansa felt a thrill at being rebellious and a little bit naughty. She had noticed that male attention generally wandered to her cleavage during conversations and it made her feel grown up. Gendry caught her eye when she looked down at the craftsmen’s table, and she smiled at him. Afterwards he approached her and asked if she would like to take a walk in the Godswood, to which she demurely agreed.

As they entered the Godswood, Sansa entwined her arm with Gendry’s, and they sauntered in as a couple. Gendry looked over at her, seeing her long loose auburn hair flowing down her back and her smiling face. He felt pleased and a little warm, and thought, _She is such a beautiful girl!_ Within a short walk past the entrance, they spied Ser Barristan and Lady Ashara nearby, sitting on a bench, holding hands and talking earnestly. Sansa said, “Oh look, how cute they are! It is so sweet for them to discover romance so late in life. But it is too bad they both have one foot in the grave, and it is too late for them.”

Gendry looked at her and responded, “Uh, Lady Sansa, they are really not that old.”

Sansa shook her head and disagreed, “Ser Barristan is ancient, with at least fifty namedays, and Lady Ashara has at least forty. Sadly, they won’t be around very long.”

The puzzled smith decided the matter was not worth arguing about, and remembered Arya comparing her sister to an ornate alabaster serving bowl – beautiful and shallow. He said, “Lady Sansa, I wanted to seek your advice on a matter that troubles me.”

The girl was excited that Gendry valued her advice, and smiled prettily, “I would be happy to help you make a decision if I can, Gendry. What is on your mind?”

“Well, as you know, I will be accompanying your party to Winterfell, and your father has been kind enough to appoint me his ward. Lord Stark has offered me two choices. The easy path is to continue my apprenticeship as a blacksmith with your smith, Mikken. Everyone says that I am very talented and can become a well-respected craftsman. I enjoy working in a forge and creating swords, armor, and jewelry.”

Sansa nodded, “Yes, I have heard Father speak highly of your work.”

Gendry smiled and continued, “He also proposed that, as the oldest son of King Robert, I have the opportunity to become a knight, and even possibly a legitimized lord. Lord Stark said that he would educate me, and sponsor me on this career path, if I desired it. I know that this course may be difficult and dangerous, and there is no guarantee of success. I could even end up humiliated or dead. I don’t know what to do.” He regarded Sansa with a questioning gaze.

Sansa remembered her conversation with Father about Gendry, and slowly said, “Gendry, if you became a knight or a lord, you would be allowed to marry a noblewoman. Does that prospect appeal to you?”

Gendry’s heart gave a lurch. “Yes it does.”

Sansa’s heart began to beat faster. “Do you have a lady in mind that might make the ‘difficult path’, as you put it, worthwhile?”

Now he shuddered internally. Prior to the previous day, he would have only thought of Lady Sansa, but now a pair of grey eyes also haunted him. But he only said, “Yes, milady.”

Her heart was about to burst out of her chest and her Tully blue eyes were shining. “Would you be willing to tell me who this lady is?”

Gendry took a deep breath and said, “It would be a Lady Stark.”

Sansa came closer to him and whispered, “Do you want to be betrothed to me?”

The agitated smith said not a word, but enfolded her in his arms and kissed her, dragging his lips along her mouth, and when her lips parted with a sigh, he slowly inserted his tongue. He did so very gently, so she could get used to the new sensation. After her initial surprise, Sansa responded with enthusiasm, gripping his cheeks with both hands, and plunging her tongue deeply into his mouth as the excitement of receiving her first kiss from her object of desire bounced around her brain. She pressed her body intimately against his, getting totally lost in the moment. If Gendry had not known her to be a chaste maiden, he would have thought her wanton by her behavior. He noticed that unlike her younger sister, she had started developing womanly curves, and his hands explored her hips and waist, and he felt her small breasts pressing against his chest. He thrilled at the feeling of Sansa’s body against his, and hoped that he wouldn’t become a ‘stallion’ as Arya termed it, and frighten her, for he was certain that she had never experienced a cock pressed against her before in her life. Gendry tried to suppress a snigger reflecting that apparently Sansa’s little sister was well acquainted with the characteristics of a ‘stallion’. Finally, they came up for air, and smiled at each other. Sansa had moved her arms around Gendry’s waist, and he once again held her against his chest. He murmured into her sweet-smelling hair, “Does that answer your question? Did you like our kiss?”

Sansa giggled excitedly, “Yes! And it was even better than I imagined from reading books! I think that I will love kissing you!” She pulled back and looked up into his bright blue eyes, “That was my first kiss. Was it yours, also?”

Gendry blushed and responded, “Um, no, milady. I have kissed one other girl.” He panicked and thought, _I can’t tell her that I kissed Arya, nothing good would come from that!_ He thought quickly and lied, “I kissed Lady Nymeria’s handmaiden, Sarra, but it was her idea. I don’t have any feelings for her, honest.”

Sansa frowned and said with venom in her voice, “I’m not surprised. I have seen that brazen hussy gawking at you during every meal. She and her Sand Snake mistress leer at you and I am sure they whisper lewd remarks to each other. Even the serving girls compete to fill your goblet and smile for you. You are not interested in any of those trollops, are you?”

Gendry was shocked. _Lady Sansa is jealous of girls looking at me in the dining hall, and watches their every move!_ He began to sweat, “No milady, I have no interest in any girl not named Stark! I do not pursue those wenches!” _The Seven help me!_ he thought.

Lady Sansa appeared mollified, and said sternly, “I hope not. If we are to speak with Father about a betrothal, I have to be able to trust you. You are aware of your father’s reputation, I assume?”

The young smith was embarrassed, and shook his head, “Lady Sansa, I am nothing like my father. I would never copy his shameless behavior.”

Sansa smiled at that and said, “I believe you, Gendry. And I don’t want you to grow a thick beard that would have you resemble him. You should grow a close beard like King Aragorn of Gondor as pictured in the history books. And not a goatee, Father says that men who wear goatees can’t be trusted. He must be thinking of a man I met at court, Lord Baelish. He had shifty eyes and a goatee and looked at me like I was his dinner. Lord Baelish told me that he had been friends with my lady mother when they were young and that I looked as beautiful as she did, and when he kissed my hand, I think he licked it. Ugh, so creepy!”

Gendry just nodded, _What is she babbling about? I guess I should pretend to be interested._ He said, “All right, no goatee. Now come, we should leave the Godswood. I have to get back to work, and I am sure your septa is looking for you. We should talk some more later.”

Sansa smiled brightly, “Yes! We have to plan our future! How many babes do you want? I want at least five!”

The youth choked and replied, “Um, milady, I think it is rather early to discuss such matters. I’ll see you later,” and he rushed off to the forge thinking, _What have I gotten myself into now! Mayhaps I should just tell Lord Stark all that I have done with his daughters and he will give me mercy by taking my head off!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is more! To be continued…………..


	28. More Kissing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The romantic action continues unabated from the last chapter.

Squire Adrian watched Gendry and Sansa enter the Godswood, and out of curiosity followed them. When he saw the couple embrace and kiss deeply, he sighed and felt the pangs of jealousy. But then he felt a pair of arms surround his waist from behind, and turned in surprise to see Jeyne Poole holding him. “Don’t think about them, Adrian,” Jeyne purred, " _I’d_ like to kiss you.”

Adrian saw that Jeyne was almost as pretty as Sansa, with long dark hair and large brown eyes like a doe. She was of an age with Sansa, approaching maidenhood, and her womanly curves were also beginning to develop. He smiled and replied, “I think that I would like to kiss you, too. Let us find some privacy in these woods.” And he took her hand and led her further into the Godswood, thinking, _She is sweet, and at least I’ll get to kiss one of these Northern beauties._

\----------------------------------------

In the late afternoon, Arya went to Lady Nym to be prepared to visit Aegon. As Nym worked, she asked about her encounter with Gendry. Arya said, “It was really nice. He was so big and strong and held me so tight. He kissed me so deeply that I needed to feel his skin against mine and let my silks drop off. I wished that all our clothes were gone.”

The Sand Snake looked quite interested, and said, “Really? Oh, Arya!”

“Yes, and I felt him becoming a stallion,” Arya’s eyes widened, “He was huge, much bigger than Aegon!”

Nym shouted, “Stop! I promised not to seduce your smith, but you are making it terribly difficult to ignore him now!” She was squeezing her legs together, and turning to her handmaiden, ordered, “Sarra, fetch some water! I need to bathe before dinner!” Sarra smirked, “Yes, my lady, and I will gladly soap you down.”

\----------------------------------------

Arya found Aegon before dinner in his chamber, at his writing desk. They had been sparring and had lessons earlier in the day, but he was surprised to see her enter in silk robes and with her hair loose, a vision of loveliness. He smiled at her and said, “You look nice.”

She smiled back and replied, “I felt like being a girl this afternoon, and I need to remind Sansa and Jeyne once in a while that they are not the only beautiful girls of Winterfell.”

Aegon remarked, “Ah, Winterfell. Your brothers would not even recognize you now.”

Arya sighed and said wistfully, “I miss them terribly and I have no idea when I will see them again.”

“Lord Connington told me that there will soon be a war council, and afterwards the Stark party would travel north.”

“Lady Nym will probably sail for Dorne after the meeting, and I will go with her.”

Aegon got up from his seat and went to embrace her, saying, “I will miss you immensely when you leave.”

Arya noticed how comfortable she had become in his arms, and how much she liked being held by him. She leaned up to initiate a deep kiss, and they became completely absorbed with each other. Arya compared the feeling to her kiss with Gendry. Kissing the large and powerful smith was raw and physical. When in his arms, she suddenly had the image of Nym riding Ser Rolly in her mind, and impulsively wished she had flowered already so they could share the same experience. Now, as she kissed Aegon, she observed that he held her tenderly while stroking her hair, kissing her gently and thoroughly like nothing else mattered in the world. There was so much feeling in his kiss, and not just the physical act, that she could sense his strong emotions. Arya put her hand on his cheek as they extended the kiss, and he put his hands on her waist, not gripping tightly, but lightly possessing her. She could imagine the passion he displayed while singing and playing his harp in her perception of his kiss, and began to understand his nature. She realized that the way he kissed her expressed how intense his feelings were for her. Aegon made her feel special and desired.

Aegon slowly broke the kiss, and whispered into her ear, “You are my muse.”

His breath against her neck made her shiver with a new, and pleasing sensation, and Arya remembered Maester Luwin’s lessons on mythology, that a muse inspired an artist’s creativity. She was startled to realize that Aegon was motivated by his love for her, and that was very flattering. His father, Prince Rhaegar, was famous for his music and poetry, and Arya was sure that Aegon could also achieve the same recognition. Now she understood that his feelings for her were expressed when he sang or wrote poetry, and as she had seen in the library, listeners responded to his passion. The concept was almost too enormous for one so young to comprehend, but now Arya understood her connection to Aegon, and it made her very thoughtful.

\-------------------------------------

That evening Gendry prepared for bed, and his mind was filled with conflicting thoughts. He had kissed both Stark sisters, and was afraid that he might be in love with both of them, a very disquieting concept. To make matters even more confusing, he heard the curtain swish again, and he thought, _I really should start locking that door._ He turned and saw Sarra, Lady Nymeria’s attractive handmaiden, whose lusty glances in the dining hall always unnerved him.

Sarra stared at his bare chest, and then captured his eyes, saying with a wicked grin, “I heard that you told Lady Sansa that I was your first kiss, and we both know that is a falsehood, Gendry. I’ll forgive you and will not expose your dishonesty, if you give me that kiss you imagined right now.”

She was looking at him as though he was a sweet tart, and Gendry felt uncomfortable facing this brazen girl alone in his bedroom. “Do you really want to kiss me?” he asked.

The lovely Dornish maiden sashayed up to him, and placing both hands on his chest, said, “Does the High Septon live in King’s Landing? Of course I want to kiss you! Every maiden in the castle would be delighted if you slipped under their sheets at night! But you seem to be stuck on Starks, it seems.”

Gendry blushed, “I guess everyone in Harrenhal knows everyone else’s business, except for me. Yes, I hold the Lady Starks very high in my estimation.”

Sarra slowly slid her hands around his back and reached up to bring her face closer to his and murmured in a flirtatious voice, “Well, why don’t you forget about Starks for a while, and just focus on me.” Her lips were soft and inviting on his mouth, and her breasts with their hard teats felt exquisite against his chest. He groaned and opened his mouth a little, and her tongue slid in like a snake, teasing and exploring, causing him to forget who he was. Sarra was a skillful kisser, and Gendry was mesmerized by her actions. Meanwhile, her hands flew everywhere around his body, finding his erogenous zones, and Gendry realized that he had become aroused almost instantly. He became so absorbed in kissing her that he was startled to observe that her silk robe had slipped off and she was not wearing any smallclothes. He broke the kiss and gulped as he gazed at her perfect young figure. His fingers were twitching, eager to touch her everywhere.

Sarra leaned into him, pressing her body against his in such a way that Gendry felt like he was on fire, and asked softly, “Gendry, you are a maiden, aren’t you? Don’t be ashamed to admit it. Everybody has to begin as one.”

Gendry was breathing heavy, his hands having moved to cup her perfect breasts on their own volition, “Yes, I have not bedded anyone.”

Now the girl purred, “Well, I can fix that if you like. I would love to bed you.” He realized that while they were talking, she had loosened his laces, his smallclothes had fallen to the floor, and she was stroking his manhood in such a way that his brain was about to stop functioning. Sarra led him to the bed, lay down, and spread her legs for him, revealing all her secrets. Gendry stared at her wet and glistening sex, as she slid her hands over his flat stomach and narrow hips, begging him, “Gendry, please take me now! I want you so badly!” She was touching him intimately, and he felt so stiff and hard that it was almost painful. He had never felt so aroused, not even on the frequent mornings when he awakened with ‘morning wood’ and Sansa on his mind, not even this morning when he woke up with thoughts of Arya in his arms, her lacey smallclothes having slipped down to her ankles, and her completely naked pale body exposed for his pleasure. His brain was almost completely taken over with desire.

She pulled him down and over her body, whispering encouraging words as she guided his hands to discover how warm and wet her center was. The next thing he knew he was at her entrance, the head of his cock between her folds, as Sarra writhed and moaned for him to hurry and come inside her, her hands on his bottom, pulling him in, her fingernails biting into his arse.

Gendry’s lustful body was about to take control, when with his last mental effort, he remembered what he had told Sansa. His conscience chided him as heard himself saying, _Lady Sansa, I am nothing like my father. I would never copy his shameless behavior._ With a tremendous effort of will, he disengaged himself from Sarra, breaking the contact, exclaiming loudly with panic in his voice, “No, Sarra, I cannot do this! Only today I promised to be faithful to my intended, and I would be shamed if I became untrustworthy so soon!” He hastily got up from the bed and clumsily started pulling on his smallclothes, stuffing his swollen and sopping wet cock inside and out of danger. Gendry picked up Sarra’s robe from the floor and offered it to her, turning his head and pleading, “Please dress yourself, the temptation to couple with you is almost more than I can stand.” At that moment, and to his great embarrassment, he finally lost control and made a huge mess in his undergarment.

She stood up and slowly pulled on her silks, staring at him with wide eyes, and Gendry blushed when he had the nerve to face her again. “I must say, Gendry, no man has ever denied himself or me pleasure at the point that you did. It must have been very difficult for you to do so. Your honor must mean everything to you.”

Gendry took a deep breath and replied in a shaky voice, “Yes, I am the bastard son of a debauched and careless king, who cared not a whit about his by-blows. My honor is all that I own. It is most precious to me.”

Sarra smiled sweetly at him and said, “You are a rare man, Ser Gendry, and I hope the woman to whom you pledge yourself deserves you,” kissing him lightly on the cheek. “Tell me, which of the Stark sisters are you smitten with, Sansa, Arya?” and she smirked while adding with a giggle, “or do you perhaps desire both of them?”

The innocent youth gave her a sorrowful countenance and said, “You are not far from the truth, Sarra. I have strong feelings for both ladies, but I all but pledged my troth to Lady Sansa today. I am most confused.”

She laughed gently, “Well, you probably made the right choice, Gendry. From what I have seen, Lady Sansa wants nothing more than to be a good wife to some lord, and bear him many sons. The wolf girl has no such inclinations, and if she were to welcome a man into her life, I wager that Prince Aegon would be the one.”

Gendry protested, “But, Sarra, I am no lord! How can I be right for Lady Sansa?”

Sarra smiled again, “Do not fret, Ser Gendry, from what I have seen tonight, I believe that you have the power to accomplish whatever you want.” She blew him a kiss and turned to leave.

With a hesitant voice he told her, “I am sorry to disappoint you, Sarra.”

She looked back and grinned, “Again, don’t fret. I have met many cocks, but I have seldom met a real man. Good morrow to you, Gendry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sleepover camp at Harrenhal is coming to an end, and after the council of war, the campers will all go their separate ways.
> 
> Now go take a cold shower.


	29. Aftermath

The next morning, Arya was eager to tell Lady Nym about her encounter with Aegon, and rushed to the Dornish ladies’ chamber, intending to accompany her to breakfast. When she arrived, Nym was dressing, and Arya noticed that Sarra was still asleep in their bed, snoring softly. Sarra was hardly decent; she was sprawled only halfway under a sheet, one breast bare and one leg exposed almost to her crotch. For all that, she had a smile on her face.

Arya asked, “Is she all right?”

Nym grinned wickedly, “She is now. Sarra returned from her encounter with a young man last night, how shall I put it, ‘frustrated and extremely unsatisfied’. I took it upon myself to relieve her of the tension. I must say, I have never seen Sarra so aroused in all her young life, and when she finally came, it was wonderful for both of us.”

The wolf girl looked puzzled, and Nym patted her on the cheek, “Don’t worry, sweetling, you will flower when we are in Dorne, and Sarra and I will teach you the ways of physical pleasure. I assure you that you will find the lessons delightful, and I am eager to be your mentor in the art of lovemaking,” and she gave Arya a squeeze and a light kiss on the lips. “Now I believe that you had some news that you were excited to share. After seeing the stir you and Aegon caused last night, I wager that you had an interesting visit with him.”

\----------------------------------------

Lady Nym had the right of it. Dinner at Harrenhal was always an exciting event. After a day of planning the eventual attack on King’s Landing and the conquest of Westeros, the adults usually enjoyed relaxing with the young people of the castle, whose light-hearted chatter lifted their mood. Sansa was the highest ranking young lady and happily held court among the other maidens and highborn girls, and the young squires were usually very animated also. For some reason, the atmosphere the previous night had been electric, with Sansa and the other girls gossiping and giggling excitedly, the squires nudging each other, and even the craftsman’s table was very lively.

The excitement level went up a notch when Arya and Aegon strolled into the hall hand in hand, Arya lovely in a silk robe and her hair loose, and Aegon smiling widely. Aegon was a charismatic prince, and the sellswords and bannermen who had pledged to risk their lives for him believed that he would be a fair and responsible ruler. The officers and foot soldiers of Golden Company had adopted Arya as one of their own when the ‘wolf girl’ first appeared in camp in boy’s clothing and insisted in participating in swordplay, and passed time with them around the campfires, sharing ribald songs and stories, and, surreptitiously, their wineskins. She had also proved her courage during the battle for Harrenhal by intercepting the panicked horse that could have injured the prince. Since she had started dressing in a more feminine fashion and was seemingly Aegon’s closest companion, they referred to her as the ‘little wolf princess’ and generally approved of her as a fitting consort for their prince. When they entered the hall all but announcing that they were a couple, every eye followed them and tongues started wagging. Lady Nym noticed that the Lords Connington and Stark were smiling, pointing, and obviously japing about them.

After dinner, the two lords motioned for the pair to join them, and Ned asked, “Does your public display of affection have some significance?”

Aegon replied, “Only that I would request that any discussions of betrothals on my part be set aside for several years.”

Arya added, lowering her eyes in the best imitation of Sansa’s ‘demure maiden’ expression, “And for my part, I accept the possibility that I will become betrothed to Aegon in a few years, and will not entertain discussions of marriage with any others.”

Jon and Ned looked amused and serious at the same time. Lord Connington said, “Well, as you have pointed out, no decisions need to be made for a long time, and for myself, I can say that I would approve of the match. What say you, Lord Stark?”

Ned smiled, “I have always complied with the desires of my headstrong daughter, and if this is her decision, I will bless it.” He grinned widely, “And I am most interested in seeing the look on her lady mother’s face when she hears the news. It will be a priceless moment!”

Arya actually blushed at her father’s words, a rare event for the wolf girl.

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“Arya, that was quite an announcement that you and Aegon made to Lord Jon and Lord Ned last night. How did it come about?” Lady Nym asked when the girl arrived in her chamber the next morning.

“Well, I told you that when Gendry held me tightly in his big strong arms and kissed me, all I seemed to want was to be naked with him and touch him.”

Nym murmured, “You are not the only one,” as she fixed Sarra’s bedclothes so her body was less exposed.

“It was very different with Aegon. He held me lightly and kissed me sweetly, like I was very important to him as a person. He told me that I was his muse, and he meant that I inspired him to write and sing. I was very surprised, but I realized that he really meant that he loved me, and now I feel a special bond to him, too.”

Lady Nym looked very thoughtful, and replied, “Arya, that sounds wonderful, and mayhaps half the women of Westeros would envy you for that confession. Not many men have the sensitivity of your Prince, and it can be a magnificent thing, but there can also be a downside.”

Arya looked perplexed, “How so?”

The Sand Snake explained, “When Aegon says that you are his inspiration, he is basing it on his idealized image of you, not your real self. In his mind you are perfect and extraordinary. That may seem like a good thing, but what if you happen to disappoint him somehow, and he then perceives you as less than perfect? What if the gauze falls from his eyes and he sees you as you really are and he no longer worships you? Will his love for you fade if you do not match his fantasy Arya?”

Now the girl appeared worried, “I don’t know, Lady Nym. What should I do?”

Nym pondered, “Well, Arya, you are the more practical one of the pair, so you will have to keep him grounded when it appears that his imagination is about to take flight and do something foolish or naïve. He will actually appreciate that, and come to trust your judgment.”

Arya bit her lip. “You are talking as if we were already a married couple.”

Lady Nym laughed, “You are right! From what I have seen of your dreamy sister, she is the one who imagines her future as a married lady, not you. However, it can be fun contemplating your future, so don’t deny yourself the pleasure of indulging in make-pretend.”

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After Sarra left, Gendry was still overcome with emotion. His bed still smelled of the lusty Dornish girl’s presence, and he had to pleasure himself twice before he could calm down and fall asleep. The smith had had an event-filled two days, and his mind was overcome with conflicting thoughts about all the young women with whom he had suddenly become so involved. He knew that any feeling for Sarra was pure lust – the beautiful girl had offered herself to him, and there was no doubt that she had been well instructed in the methods for inflaming the desire of any normal young man, but he realized that she merely considered him a conquest, and had no real interest in him as a person. Gendry imagined the embarrassing vision of Sarra bragging to the other young women that she had been the first to seduce him, and had taken his maidenhead. He felt very uncomfortable, and reluctantly admitted to himself that he was relieved that he had not bedded her, although the temptation had almost overwhelmed him.

He was more confused about the wolf girl. After becoming familiar with her behavior as a strange and delightful combination of a little brother and sister, all of a sudden she had changed into a possible lover, one who had the ability to generate incredible physical passion in him. He imagined that if they were older, their lovemaking would be violent, wild, and all-consuming, leaving them exhausted and satisfied. In a way, he still felt a connection to her, and almost wished it could happen.

But his growing relationship with the Lady Sansa was the one that most fascinated him. She was lovely and a delight to hold in his arms, and kissing her was very sweet and comforting, and she seemed to have a genuine personal interest in him. Sansa had encouraged him to take pride in himself and to improve his station in life, and offered him the tempting image of sharing a pleasant domestic life with her. Gendry was an orphan, and as good as Master Mott was to him, it was not the same as having a father. He had grown up without a family, and the picture that Sansa had painted in his mind was very desirable. Lord Stark had promised to raise him in the same fashion as his own sons, and Gendry had a great hope that life in Winterfell could be blissful for him. He was aware that he would have to win over Lady Stark, and both Ned and Sansa had implied that might not be an easy thing to do, but he steeled himself to try.

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Gendry was pounding on a sword in the smithy when he felt eyes watching him. He turned to see that Arya had entered. He was relieved to see that she was ‘Squire Arya’ again, muddy, with a streak of dirt on her face, dressed in boy’s clothing and bristling with weapons, her hair in a messy braid. He had been afraid that if he saw her again as ‘Lady Arya’, he might be tempted to embrace and kiss her, and knowing how impulsive the wolf girl was, knew that it was likely that she would respond to him, and only the Seven knew what would happen then. However, there was no fire for him in her eyes now, and she calmly asked, “Well, how did it go with my sister?” She smiled and continued, “I may already know part of your answer.”

He looked sheepish and replied, “mila….ah, Arya, the kisses that you and I shared were incredible, and if you had not insisted that I not base my feelings on those alone, I would be convinced that I was in love with you. However, since kissing and talking to Lady Sansa, I think I share a deeper connection with her. I have strong feelings for your sister, and I learned that she has had feelings for me since we first met while fleeing King’s Landing, and mayhaps our friendship will continue to grow.” He paused, not sure what to expect, “I hope that I haven’t disappointed you, Arya.”

She smiled and said softly, “No, Gendry, you haven’t disappointed me, and I am happy for you.” Arya lowered her eyes, the bold she wolf looking more bashful than Gendry could ever had imagined, “I also have something to confess. I could have lost myself in your arms, and thought that I was in love, until I kissed Aegon yesterday. After we had a serious talk, I realized that he is really the one boy with whom I can imagine sharing a future. We told Lord Jon and Father that we would accept becoming betrothed at the proper time.”

Gendry grinned broadly, “I suppose I should congratulate you! The first time you came to the forge I teased you about being in love with the Prince, and now it appears that I was right!”

Now Arya spoke with more confidence, “Yes, it seems as if fate intended for us to meet. Aegon was the first to realize that we were meant to be together, and I have come around to his way of thinking. Only the old gods know what the future may bring, but we hope to act on our feelings for one another eventually.”

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After Arya spoke to Gendry, she went to find Sansa. Just to avoid aggravation, she washed her face and brushed her clothing, and asked Ashara to rebraid her hair. She found her sister in the chamber that she shared with Jeyne, and the two girls were sewing and chatting. Arya paused at the door and gave Jeyne a dark look, and the steward’s daughter mumbled something about an errand, and fled from the room. When they were alone, Arya addressed her sister. “Well, Sansa, we both have come to an understanding with our men, and I happy that you are planning a future with Gendry. He is a good man.”

Sansa smiled, “Thank you, Arya, and I also wish you good fortune. I still find it incredible that my little sister could become queen of Westeros.”

Arya bit her lip and looked worried, “That is not really what I want, but I know that my most desired path involves Aegon and his plans.”

Now her face turned to a serious expression, “Sansa, there is something else I wanted to say to you concerning Gendry. I expect for you to do right by him or I will steal him away. Know that I can if I want to. Batting your eyelashes is not the only way to attract a man. You see him as a knight or lord in your imagination. I have worked with him in the forge. I have kissed him in there, too. If I wanted to be the smith’s woman, he would forget about you and love only me. Be grateful that I already have a man, for Lady Nym is teaching me well and I could have any man I want.

Sansa was surprised, thinking, _She is certainly not the innocent little tomboy that I remember_. Sansa looked at her sister with curiosity. Arya possessed two namedays less than Sansa and Jeyne, and yet she exuded the confidence of a woman grown. Sansa was alarmed, “Arya, but if you were betrothed to Prince Aegon, surely you would not need nor want Gendry?”

The wolf girl smirked, “Targaryen kings sometimes take two wives, why should I not have two husbands if I want?” She reflected on Lady Nym. “Mayhaps I will need two men to keep me satisfied.”

That confession made Sansa blush, “Oh Arya, how can you speak like that?!”

Her sister replied, “Why are you so shocked? Such behavior is not considered uncommon for men, why should it be different for women?”

Sansa shook her head, thinking, _My sister still finds ways to be scandalous!_

Arya made her point, “Really, Sansa, all I mean is that I like Gendry and think that he is a good man. I think that he deserves the best treatment from his woman.”

Now Sansa responded, “Have no fear. I love him and will try to make him happy.”

They had come to an understanding, and Arya moved to embrace her sister, knowing that they would soon go separate ways, and on different adventures.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is time to return to politics.


	30. Ravens

Ravens were crossing Westeros, and news was passing between the castles of the land. Changes were occurring; changes that would affect all the Houses and armies that were vying for control of the Seven Kingdoms. A raven arrived in Harrenhal from King’s Landing, carrying a nationwide message announcing the coronation of King Joffrey, the annulment of his betrothal to Sansa Stark due to her father’s traitorous defection, and his betrothal to Lady Margaery of the loyal House Tyrell of the Reach. The message went on to denounce the Baratheons as pretenders to the Iron Throne, and House Stark for allying with the Targaryen invaders. The Lannisters demanded that each Lord of Westeros show fealty to King Joffrey or be considered an enemy of the Crown.

A raven came in from the Baratheon brothers, Stannis and Renly, also bearing a nationwide announcement, accusing the Lannisters of plotting the death of King Robert for their own nefarious purposes, as displayed by the hasty coronation of King Joffrey and the ascension of Tywin Lannister to the position of Hand of the King. Using the information that Lord Stark had provided, the Baratheons boldly accused Cersei Lannister of incest with her brother, Jaime, and declared that their offspring were abominations. They cited the evidence that all Baratheon progeny were known to be dark-haired and blue-eyed, throughout the history of their House. Lords Stannis and Renly refused to acknowledge Joffrey as the true King, demanded that he abdicate the throne, and invited the High Septon to investigate the heresy brought on by Lannister sinfulness.

A raven arrived from Obara Sand detailing for Lord Connington how Aegon’s Dornish allies would soon be crossing the mountains of the Dornish Marches, with the intent of blockading the roseroad, and interfering with the supply trains out of Highgarden and the Reach. Eventually, the army would be deployed to initiate the siege of King’s Landing, hoping that Lord Renly Baratheon would join the siege with the might of the Stormlands, while they awaited the arrival of Prince Aegon with Golden Company and the Lords of the Crownlands.

Soon after arriving at Harrenhal, Ned sent a raven to Maester Luwin at Winterfell, ordering him to alert the Stark bannermen to guard the North from invasion. The maester was to send word to Helman Tallhart of Torrhen’s Square and Galbart Glover of Deepwood Motte to fortify the ruins of Moat Cailin. Most of that ancient castle had crumbled into piles of rocks, but the remaining towers commanded the kingsroad that passed nearby. Lord Stark wrote, _Tell them to form a company of bowman and send them to the castle. Two hundred archers can hold the Neck against an army. Instruct Lord Manderly to strengthen his defenses at White Harbor and Ramsgate and to be prepared to protect both ports from an attack by sea. Keep a careful watch on Theon Greyjoy. His father’s Ironborn fleet may be needed to counter the Lannisters. Send a raven to the Greatjon Umber at the Last Hearth, our most loyal bannerman, describing the political situation, and urge him to gird for battle._

Ned spoke to Lord Jon about his preparations, “I will send scouts ahead to Greywater Watch in the marshlands, to warn my old friend and ally, Howland Reed, and request that he watch for suspicious activity in the Neck. That is our first line of defense.”

Lord Stark also sent instructions to Maester Luwin, requesting that he prepare a gift of doves carrying a wreath of flowers to Lady Catelyn, with a note professing his love and that he looked forward to returning to her soon. Ned was still harboring feelings of guilt for the manner in which he responded to Lady Ashara’s overtures following his escape from Harrenhal. In bed with his eyes closed, he could still remember how inviting her purple eyes and plump lips had been when she had pressed her ample breasts against his chest, practically begging for a kiss. He had been aroused, and almost cast common sense to the wind and bedded her that day. Ned was greatly relieved that Ashara had found a substitute lover in Ser Barristan, and he plotted continually to finish his business with the Targaryens as soon as possible, and leave for home and wife. Unfortunately, there were too many distractions, especially his troublesome younger daughter, who seemed to have attracted the attention of a variety of males, both green boys and grown men.

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Lessons continued at Harrenhal, although Haldon’s class size had increased. Now it regularly included Aegon, Arya, Sansa, Jeyne, Adrian, and Gendry, plus other maidens and squires recruited by Sansa and Adrian occasionally. Out of curiosity, Nym had also sent Sarra to observe and report back on the content. Haldon continued to focus on military history, but also expanded the material to include the geography, history, culture, and characteristics of the Seven Kingdoms, which would be useful for his collection of future leaders of Westeros. With that many youngsters intent on showing how clever they were, the classes often were very lively, and Haldon found that he enjoyed challenging the young minds. He also discovered that his students learned more rapidly in group activities, rather than with individual instruction. Arya was the most ambitious, and was determined to prove that although she was the youngest present, she was the smartest. The others had to work hard not be bested by her, and Haldon chuckled at their industriousness. Sarra had an instinct for politics, and her insight was enlightening for the future king.

Haldon had to work to keep his material interesting, or the teenagers would get distracted, and start passing notes to each other and making covert glances. He was well aware of the emotions in the room due to all the ongoing romances, and strove to keep their attention. He muttered to Lord Connington that maintaining their focus was harder than the actual instruction. For their part, the youths enjoyed their shared education, and were eager to go to their sessions in the library. Haldon realized that the friendships being forged would be important after the war.

The culture lovers still gathered for song and poetry in the library afterwards, and with Nym’s permission, Sarra, having an interest in music, joined the group and was welcomed. The young men thought that she was easy on the eyes, and Sansa and Jeyne admired the older girl’s knowledge of make-up and fashion.

Sarra was one reason why Gendry did not join the culture club. Whenever she made eye contact with him, he blushed furiously, as the sight of her naked body in his bed still haunted his dreams. Arya noticed his discomfort, and deduced that Gendry was the cause of Sarra’s ‘frustration’ the morning that she visited Nym’s chamber unannounced.

While the others were immersed in the arts, Arya and Gendry would find practical occupation in the forge or stables, or even watch the carpenters at work, pitching in if asked to help with the castle repairs. Arya still enjoyed being ‘underfoot’, and continued to bond with the smallfolk. Their wanderings often led to the kitchens, where they peeled turnips if needed, and were rewarded with sweet treats, as the cooks knew that the ‘little wolf princess’ had a sweet tooth. Gendry was often asked to fetch heavy sacks of vegetables and flour from the storeroom, and Arya smirked when love struck kitchen maids batted their eyelashes at him and touched his powerful arms. As usual, shy Gendry blushed at the unsolicited attention. Arya hoped that he would always remain so ingenuous. They had returned to a sibling relationship, but occasionally Gendry was convinced that Arya had cast a predatory glance his way. For her part, Arya enjoyed having a platonic friendship with Gendry, but she was secure in the belief that if she desired the handsome smith, he would be putty in her hands.

Sword fighting was not neglected, and Duck now had Aegon spending more practice time sparring with grown men. Gendry was introduced to swordplay also, as befit his new status of Lord Stark’s ward, and Arya continued her water dance training with Bokko.

Arya was also learning how to handle a sand steed under the direction of Lady Nymeria. Sand steeds were fast, agile, and maneuverable horses, and were easily able to avoid the bulky and slow destriers and the weapons of the knights they carried. Arya was also practicing how to throw knives from horseback, which was Lady Nym’s field of expertise. Arya was very excited about her Sand Snake training, and she related her experiences to Aegon, her eyes shining with delight. He took her hand and entwined their fingers; a feeling that Arya liked because it seemed they were sharing something special again. Aegon said, “I am pleased for you.”

But Arya knew him well enough to sense that something was bothering him and replied, “But you are not really happy.”

The prince sighed and reluctantly replied, “I regret that Sand Snake training will soon take you to Dorne and far away from me. Our pleasant time together is coming to an end.”

Arya bit her lip and offered, “I have had similar thoughts, and sometimes I do not want to leave you either. It would be easy simply to stay as Lord Connington’s ward and Haldon’s and Duck’s student.”

He impulsively embraced her, and she leaned against his chest, comfortable and content within his arms. Arya murmured into his tunic, “I tell myself that even if I leave you, I will design a plan to return to you again, and it will be my goal.”

Aegon was moved by her confession and kissed her very gently. Arya realized that it wasn’t like one of their exciting and sloppy tongue kisses, and she felt the passion behind the kiss, knowing that the emotion was special. She understood why he wanted so much to be betrothed to her, and she recognized that she was beginning to experience the same feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, I can’t seem to stop writing about the delightful youngsters of Harrenhal until the action begins, and I hope you enjoy these passages as much as I do.


	31. A War Council and a Wedding

The time had come for Lord Connington, as Hand of King Aegon VI Targaryen, to convene a war council and plan the conquest of Westeros in his name. The principal players and their closest retainers gathered in Harrenhal for the event. Like many of the chambers in the enormous castle, Harrenhal’s war room was immense, with a huge table in the center. Lord Connington had placed himself at one end, and his map was spread out in front of him. Arya entered as he was studying it, and she japed, echoing some of the first words she had spoken to him so long ago. “Are you lost? I can help you if you want. I know how to read maps if you tell me where you want to go.”

Connington laughed heartily at the memory. “If I had known then that the messy child you were at that time would become the ‘wolf princess’ they call you now, I would not have believed it.”

As the participants entered, Black Balaq, commander of the Golden Company archers, and one of the men in camp who did not like women in the war room, glared at Arya, remembering the invectives they exchanged at the last meeting. For her part, the wolf girl casually asked, “How is that rash, any better?” Balaq snorted, turned his head, and moved on.

When everyone was present and seated, Connington stood and welcomed the assemblage, introducing some of the main leaders. Then he proceeded. “As we prepare for war, I would like to summarize for you the deployment of the significant forces. Firstly, the Prince and I will advance on King’s Landing with Golden Company and the Targaryen bannermen, who are mostly from the Crownlands at this moment. We do not expect the Lannister army to dare confront us on the field, so we will probably begin a siege of the city. The siege will eventually encompass two fronts, as Obara Sand’s Dornish forces will arrive to join ours. Presently General Obara is marching on the Reach, with the intention of interfering with commerce on the roseroad, and preventing much-needed supplies from reaching the Red Keep. The Lannisters depend on Highgarden for their food supply, and we will commandeer those resources.”

Connington paused to allow this information to sink in, then he continued. “The other main concern is Kevan Lannister, who has left Casterly Rock with a large contingent of troops and much gold, traveling on the goldroad, intent on reaching King’s Landing without molestation. The gold is earmarked for building a fleet of ships to defend Blackwater Bay, and to prevent a blockade of the port. A portion of Prince Aegon’s forces will be deployed to confront this threat.”

The fact that Kevan Lannister was on the march was news to many present, and there was some murmuring around the table. “We are also concerned about the brothers Baratheon, who hold the Lannisters responsible for Robert’s death. Stannis Baratheon holds the island of Dragonstone, but does not have many soldiers. He does have a small fleet of ships, and intends to blockade Blackwater Bay to prevent resupplying the city by sea. Renly Baratheon holds Storms End, but the Stormlands are in turmoil. The lords of the Stormlands are divided. Some support Renly, yet others back Joffrey, who is a Baratheon in name. We would hope that Renly would join our siege of King’s Landing, but until he can consolidate his bannermen, we will not depend on his support. Also, the Baratheons accused the Lannisters of incest, and asked that the High Septon investigate this, but we have had no word about any progress, and would not expect the Sept to challenge a sitting monarch. Queen Cersei and her Hand, Tywin Lannister, would not hesitate to remove the High Septon’s head if he dared to do so.”

“Now we need to discuss some other Great Houses,” Lord Connington said, “Although the Vale wants revenge for the death of their late Lord Jon Arryn, his bannermen are wary and defensive, and do not plan to move beyond their borders. The Tullys of the Riverlands, vulnerable to a Lannister attack, are also remaining neutral, and are guarding their borders. As for Balon Greyjoy, Lord of the Iron Islands, consider that the Ironborn are scavengers, preying on the weak and defenseless. If the Lannisters and the Tullys ignore them and deploy all their forces elsewhere, Greyjoy’s reavers will strike coastal towns, raping and pillaging. We do not need to fear the Ironborn, but must be aware of their actions. Now, Lord Stark and Lady Nymeria have reports.”

Ned stood and spoke, “I intend to travel back to the North in a few days, and have sent ravens ahead warning of a possible invasion. Once in Winterfell, I will call a council meeting to assess the disposition of my bannermen. They are wary of wars in the south, but loathe the Lannisters, and I expect they will agree to join forces with Prince Aegon if needed. As for the Ironborn, Theon Greyjoy is my ward and Lord Balon will not attack the North.”

Lady Nymeria stood now, and every male eye was on her, “My party will sail from Maidenpool soon. We will arrive at Sunspear in Dorne first, and later we will join my sister Obara in the Dornish Marches, where her base is located. Some of you will be saddened by the fact that I will be taking Lady Arya Stark, who is my apprentice and your ‘little wolf princess’, with me.”

There were murmuring from the crowd, as Arya was a favorite of Golden Company, and some considered her the sellswords’ good luck charm. Aegon was sitting with Arya, and squeezed her hand at Nym’s words.

The Sand Snake was aware of the response, and added, “Have no fear, we will meet up with you again at King’s Landing, and the Lannisters will collapse before our combined forces.”

Lord Jon stood again and shouted, “Godspeed to all of us, and let fortune favor the bold!” as the soldiers raised their swords and cheered.

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Following the war council, Lord Connington announced that the wedding of Lady Ashara and Ser Barristan would serve as the last big event at Harrenhal before the war commenced. Jon planned an elaborate celebration and intended to light all thirty-five hearths in the Great Hall. The Lords of the Crownlands send for their ladies, and many maidens and squires were already present, excited for the festivities.

Squire Adrian’s father was one of those arriving for the wedding. Since receiving a raven with an emotional message from his son, Ser Balman Byrch was curious about this Lady Arya Stark that he was so taken with. Adrian had written how beautiful and ladylike she was, but his father’s first glimpse of the maid was in the training yard where he viewed a girl child in soiled boy’s clothing and with a dirty, messy braid, and who appeared decidedly violent and aggressive as she sparred with Ser Rolly. Ser Balman turned to his son and asked, “Have you taken leave of your senses, Adrian? Is this the ‘vision of loveliness’ you wrote about? Mayhaps you need your eyes examined by a maester!”

Adrian blushed and replied, “I know it seems confusing, Father, but the fighter you see and the lovely lady I described are one and the same. In any case, ignore my letter, as Prince Aegon has all but claimed Lady Arya as his betrothed.”

Ser Balman shook his head. “Now I wonder about the prince’s sanity. Mayhaps _he_ needs his eyes examined, too! Mayhaps these Northern lassies are really enchantresses, and you young men have been bewitched. I am glad that you are no longer enamored with her, for even though she belongs to a Great House, I would not approve a match with her. The very idea!” and he shook his head again.

Squire Adrian felt troubled, for he did not know how to tell his father that he was in love with another Northern girl, and she was not highborn. _Life is cruel,_ he mused.

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Sansa took it upon herself, as the highest ranking young lady present, to organize the other maidens into needlework groups, her favorite occupation, and now she had a purpose. The wedding required two cloaks, so under the direction of Septa Mordane, Sansa divided the girls into two groups: Sansa’s ladies would embroider one cloak with the sigil of House Selmy, three stalks of wheat on a brown field, and Jeyne’s group would embroider another with the sigil of House Dayne, a sword and a falling star on a lavender field. The girls had a merry time sewing and gossiping, and Sansa heard some very interesting stories, mainly about the handsome and talented Prince Aegon and the unconventional ‘wolf princess’.

Actually, according to the maidens, many of the most interesting events in the Targaryen camp had involved Arya, and Sansa blushed to think what her mother would say if she had heard the gossip. The girls admired Arya for sacrificing her safety to save Prince Aegon from the runaway horse, but giggled about how she assaulted a squire at the victory banquet. The other squires still teased Adrian about how Arya had molested him, but there was envy in their japes.

Sansa decided that she needed to confront her sister. “Arya, as you know, I have started a needlework group with the other ladies here, and they complained to me, that, as the Prince’s closest female friend, and highest ranking lady, you should have started the sessions ages ago.”

Arya sneered in response, “Needlework? You mean a hen party. Shite, Sansa, you know my history with needlework! If Septa Mordane ever tells me that I have the hands of a blacksmith again, I will stab her! I’m not interested in gossiping with a bunch of girly girls.” She pulled her favorite sword from her belt. “This is my Needle. If they want me to attend them, they can come to the training grounds and try sparring.” At that moment, she did not look anything like a highborn lady. Arya had just come from practice and was dressed in muddy breeches and her hair was escaping from her braid. Her face was sweaty and flushed from exercise and from the fact that Bokko had pinched her on her arse again before she got away. She had planned to hit him hard the next time he tried that, but he was always too quick. Arya suspected that this impropriety was part of the training, too.

Sansa appeared unmoved and responded with a prim expression. “Nevertheless, as a Stark of Winterfell, it was your responsibility to lead the other girls in activities. Arya, the girls told me some interesting things. They told me that you gave Aegon an unusual favor before the battle.”

The wolf girl smirked, “Yes, I gave him my smallclothes.”

Her sister blushed, “Arya! That was not proper! What would mother say?”

Arya snorted, “When have I ever been proper? Don’t expect it of me.”

Now Sansa looked worried, “They also said that you were caught ‘playing maester’ with Prince Aegon.”

Now Arya was beginning to enjoy upsetting her straight-laced older sister. “That’s not the only time we have seen each other without clothes. The prince and I have no secrets.” She wanted to shock her sister. “Shall I describe his cock for you?”

Sansa turned bright red and stammered, “This is not fitting conversation for young ladies.”

“On the contrary, it should be. You are always going on and on about how you want to be a good wife. Lady Nymeria says that ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his cock.’ She says men are not as smart as women and think more with their cocks than with their brains. If you keep a man’s cock satisfied, you will keep him happy.” Sansa’s jaw had dropped at the scandalous turn of the conversation. Arya was enjoying discomfiting her older sister. She felt compelled to continue. “You should talk to Sarra for more details. She is further along than I am with our education under Lady Nym.”

Now Sansa frowned, “Umm, Sarra, I admire her, but I don’t like the way she looks at Gendry, and he blushes whenever he sees her.” Sansa looked worried, “I wonder if something is going on between them.”

Arya bit her lip to stop herself from saying, _Mayhaps you should ask her about Gendry’s cock,_ but didn’t want the smith to get into trouble, so she said only, “You should ask him outright instead of just worrying. Gendry is honest and will tell you the truth. I don’t think he is cheating on you, and I would know.”

Sansa gave her sister a cheerful expression, “Thank you, Arya, I will do that. I am pleased that you believe that he is faithful. See, we sisters can get along, even though we are so different,” and she gave Arya a big hug.

Arya smiled back and thought, _you have no idea how different._

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The wedding ceremony was held in Harrenhal’s sept, a large chamber as were many in the castle. Sansa, Jeyne, and other ladies had been working feverishly to embroider the beautiful cloaks, and their efforts had succeeded. After the vows were exchanged, Lord Stark presented the cloak of House Selmy to Ser Barristan and Lord Connington removed Lady Ashara’s maiden cloak, folded it and stood aside. Ser Barristan draped the Selmy cloak over Ashara’s shoulders and the couple kissed to seal their union. Sansa and Jeyne were bawling during the wedding ceremony, their eyes red and swollen, as they hugged each other tightly. Even Lady Nym’s eyes looked damp and she wiped away a tear. Aegon took the opportunity to put his arm around Arya, and she did not rebuff him, but leaned closer.

The guests were suitably impressed, as Ser Barristan the Bold was the most famous living knight in Westeros, and his bride was the sister of Ser Arthur Dayne of Starfall, another legendary knight. Lady Ashara’s beauty had been renowned to a previous generation, and Lady Nym made sure that she still appeared as lovely. Only the meanest gossips, and there were luckily very few of those present, would remark to a neighbor that Lady Ashara had been presumed dead for years, having thrown herself from a tower for the sin of presenting Ned Stark with a bastard. However, since Lady Ashara had appeared in public again, some wondered if that old tale had any truth to it.

As the guests gathered in the Great Hall for the reception, Prince Aegon was invited to play his harp as the musicians were setting up. He sang a song of love and doom, and all the women in the hall were weeping when he was done, and the older witnesses swore he reminded them of his father Rhaegar.

At the feast, the music inspired Bokko to invite Arya to join him in demonstrating water dance steps set to music – the pair moved gracefully and fluidly around the floor, and Arya’s twirling silks and hair thrilled the audience, and there was much applause. Afterwards, Bokko kissed her hand, and she returned to sit by a smiling Aegon, and she impulsively pecked him on the cheek. The prince took her hand, raised both their arms high into the air, and returned Arya to the dance floor, shouting, “Let the cotillion commence!” The wedding couple and other joined them and everyone took their positions. The musicians struck up a tune, and the dancers moved through the formal steps, changing partners as required and lighthearted japes were heard as each dancer met their unexpected new partner. There was levity in the air.

During the second cotillion, Ashara and Selmy, being mature and proper, stole away in secret, not wanting to be subjected to a bawdy bedding ceremony. They were not missed until it was far too late. After the cotillions, the musicians played a series of waltzes, and individual pairs remained on the dance floor. Lady Nym danced with Lord Jon, and he did not look too uncomfortable, Ned danced with his beautiful daughters, his face beaming, and Arya and Aegon made a charming couple in the eyes of the Prince’s bannermen, who applauded enthusiastically as they danced. Sansa patiently showed a self-conscious Gendry how to dance, and Adrian and Jeyne moved gracefully around the floor.

The wedding feast lasted well into the night, and afterwards couples wandered off to make their own music, romantically inspired by the ceremony. Nine months later a large cohort of offspring appeared in the Crownlands, known years later as the ‘Harrenhal generation’. Lady Nym decided to make Bokko’s night interesting and show him some positions that he had no idea existed, and Sarra choose to lavish her attention on an older teen squire, giving him some memories that lasted a lifetime.

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Septa Mordane consumed too much wine and woke up when the servants started cleaning the hall. She went out into the Godswood to collect her charges, suspecting that the younger lovers had wandered there. She had attended many weddings, and knew how the emotion of the event affected romantic youths, and was understanding as long as no maidenheads were in danger. She found Sansa and Gendry in a close embrace under a tree, their clothes rather disheveled. Gendry’s hair was mussed, and his tunic was open to the waist, and the laces of Sansa’s bodice were quite loose, her make-up was smeared, and her hair was a fright. The septa did not scold, but simply made eye contact with the maiden, and motioned with her head to come away. Sansa blushed and disengaged herself from the lad, blowing a kiss back at the dazed youth, and smoothing down her gown as she left with her septa.

Sansa was very pleased, as Gendry had kissed her long and deeply, and their curious hands had done much exploring. She had confirmed the rumors about Gendry’s proportions, and was amazed at what she had learned. For his part, Gendry had discovered that Sansa possessed features that were smaller, but almost as soft and round and perfect as Sarra’s, and he was delighted. Septa Mordane then discovered Jeyne and Squire Adrian in a deep embrace and snoring softly under another tree, and she gently woke them up. The couple appeared cute and innocent, except that all their laces were undone, Adrian’s hand was cupping Jeyne’s breast, and Jeyne’s hand was inside his breeches. Jeyne blinked and slowly broke the contact, mumbling a goodbye to the sleepy squire. They had also enjoyed a sweet romantic interlude, but Jeyne was less satisfied than Sansa because her hands had discovered the opposite concerning Adrian’s proportions. However, the squire could not be blamed, as he had only two and ten namedays compared to Gendry’s four and ten.

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Arya returned to her chamber and realized that she was completely unsupervised. Lord Jon had assigned Ashara the duty of keeping the wolf girl out of trouble, and she shared that responsibility with Lady Nym since the Sand Snake had arrived. However, both Ashara and Nym were both passionately occupied for the evening. Arya grabbed a few items, stuffed them into a tiny bag, and scampered down the hall to Aegon’s room. Duck was dozing on his feet, so it was easy to sneak past him, and she shook Aegon awake. He blinked at her, saying, “Whaaaat?”

She grinned at him and waved the bag.

“What is that?” he asked, pushing silver hair out of his eyes.

“My traveling kit – my nightie and a toothbrush.” She pulled the sheer silk embroidered negligée that she knew he admired from the bag, let her silk robes slip off one shoulder and then the other and drop to the floor, slowly and gracefully stepped out of her linen smallclothes, putting on a little show for the prince as Lady Nym had coached her, and slipped the nightie over her head, letting it drift slowly over her torso as she rotated her hips.

Aegon eyed her warily, suspecting that she had mischief in mind. “Aaaaryaaaa.”

“Move over, stupid,” is all she said, shoving him to one side of the bed and climbing in. She kissed him first, then lay on her side with her back to him, and pressed against him until she could feel his limp manhood against her bottom. He pulled the covers over her, and slid his hand over her stomach, marveling how smooth, soft, and warm her skin was. Impulsively, he reached further under the nightie and squeezed her teats gently. “Oooh, I like that.” she moaned, feeling a tingle in her belly, and pressed her thighs together.

Arya could recognize lust now, and based on the expressions she had seen on the faces in the Hall, she expected that there was plenty of ‘sword and sheath’ action taking place in the castle tonight. Her imagination was running wild, but she could not picture modest and proper Lady Ashara naked and moaning, with her legs spread wide while dignified Ser Barristan pressed into her. She had seen Lady Nym impaled on Ser Rolly’s sword, and knew how much the Sand Snake enjoyed the act. While sharing secrets in bed one night with Sarra, the Dornish girl had confessed that she loved the sensation of a boy inside her, and, no, she had not bedded Gendry, even though she wished she had. Sarra said that Aegon and Gendry were the handsomest boys in the castle, and all the girls swooned over them. Arya gave her a suspicious glance, and Sarra laughed, saying, “Don’t worry, your prince doesn’t notice them. He only has eyes for you.”

Arya moved Aegon’s hand from her stomach to her mound, and she felt his fingertips brush her damp slit. She wiggled a little bit to bring them closer. He moaned softly and kissed the back of her neck. She mumbled into her pillow, “Aegon, are we going to do the sword and sheath?”

He hesitated, and told her, “Not now. Not yet. You are still too young. We should both be older to do it properly. I will wait for you.”

Lady Nym had started speaking to Arya about acquiring sexual experience, and she responded, biting her lip, “You don’t have to wait.”

Aegon turned her around, looked into her eyes with a serious expression, and said, “I want to,” and kissed her gently. She returned the kiss, and they were soon sound asleep in each other’s arms, totally exhausted from the exciting day.

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The last to go to sleep were Jon and Ned, who were sharing a long, embarrassingly intimate conversation over too many goblets of wine. Ned recounted memories of Winterfell, and was emotional as he tearfully confessed in a maudlin voice how much he missed his lady wife and home. Lady’s Ashara’s amorous attention to him had reminded him of his desire for Catelyn, and he was desperate to get home and bed her immediately and often.

Jon brooded over the fact that, as Hand to King Aerys, he had lost the opportunity to be the lord of his own House, marry, and raise a family; a right that went to his despised cousin, Ronald. After all the sacrifices he made and battles he fought, the mad, suspicious, and ungrateful king had decided that his Hand had failed him somehow, and stripped him of his castle, lands, and title, and sent him into exile in Essos. Jon was emotional because, while dancing with Lady Nym, the seductive and charming girl had thanked him for his kindness and understanding after she killed Amory Lorch, and sweetly offered herself to him again, her eyes wide and inviting. Jon was almost sobbing as he confessed that he regretted never having a normal life, whining, “Why could I have not met and married a lovely girl like Nymeria instead of wasting my life for a mad king?!” He took a long swallow of wine and shouted, “At least I can say that I have raised Aegon as if he was my own son, and I am proud of the result!” slamming his goblet on the table.

Ned took the opportunity to raise _his_ goblet and say, “In that case, you have a son, and I have a daughter, and I think that together they will bring us happiness!” Jon returned the toast and soon they embraced with a weepy bro hug and parted, wandering to their respective beds for a sound sleep and killer hangovers.

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Not many of the guests were awake for the wedding breakfast. Lady Nym was present, cheerful, and ravenous, as she usually was after an active night. She was surprised to see Ashara, but without her new spouse. “Wore him out, did you?” Nym smirked.

Lady Ashara blushed demurely, “My husband is still sleeping.” It was obvious that she savored the words ‘my husband’.

Nym took a mouthful of eggs and asked bluntly, “Does his equipment still work?”

The new bride blushed deeply now. “I have no complaints.”

The Sand Snake grinned and responded, “Are you sure you don’t want my advice? I know the two of you are green novices when it comes to lovemaking.”

Ashara took a breath and timidly ventured, “Well, mayhaps we could have a conversation later, but Lady Nym, try to be delicate, as you easily embarrass me.”

Nym smiled broadly, “Of course, sweetling, I only want you to experience connubial bliss and I won’t recommend any positions that might lead to cramping muscles. I will show you some stretching exercise, too.”

Ashara had often been critical of Lady Nym, but she realized that the girl was also sweet and generous. She kindly asked, “How was _your_ evening?”

The younger woman replied, “I had much fun with Bokko. He is not a man with whom I could have a deep philosophical or political discussion, but he does understand my needs and can be very obliging. I suppose that I will miss his body and his stamina when I return to Dorne, but not his mind.”

“So you would not expect to have a serious relationship with him?”

"No, and besides, he has a wandering eye for all the ladies. He will simply replace me quickly when I leave. I have even seen him look at Arya as a potential conquest, and she is but a child. Bokko can be a real dog!”

“Well, you were the one to assure me that Arya can take care of herself, so I would not worry. Besides, Arya is leaving for Dorne soon, also, and that problem will solve itself.”

Nym smiled brightly, “You are right. Actually, there was something else on my mind about last night,” and she started to giggle, “I danced with Lord Jon, and laying on all my charm, I offered myself to that stern old warrior again. I think I actually saw a glimpse of desire for me on his face, and I wager that I could have seduced him if I had really tried.” Mischief danced in the Sand Snake’s lovely eyes and she giggled again. “It would have been fun to bed the proper lord. I wager he has not had a woman in a generation, and his sexual tension would explode like wildfire! We could have shown each other a grand time! And I think I would be doing him a favor.”

“But Lady Nym, think about his loss of dignity!”

She laughed loudly, “His dignity would be a worthy trade for the opportunity to bed me! I know ways to make him forget about dignity forever! Come now, Ashara, when you were crawling into Ned Stark’s lap and wanting to rip his clothes off, were you thinking about dignity?”

Ashara blushed, “No, I expect not. I admit that I just wanted to join our bodies at the time. Thank the gods that we survived that temptation without embarrassing ourselves, and I am pleased that I have a husband now on whom to express those feelings.”

Lady Nym smirked, “And your new husband still lies abed, probably thinking of you if he has awakened. Why don’t you go show him how much you enjoy being married?”

“What a splendid idea! I shall do so!” and Ashara gathered her skirts and rushed off to her bridal chamber with the intend of preventing Ser Barristan from putting on any clothes, a lusty smile on her face.

The clever temptress leaned back in her chair and sighed, “Ah, the things I do for love.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I quoted directly from ‘The Hostage’ in the first paragraph of this chapter. Thanks go out to ‘madaboutasoiaf’ for coming up with this wonderful and inspiring concept. I have written 58000 words so far, and there is no end in sight.


	32. Preparing for Departure

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 32 Preparing for Departure 

Soon after the wedding, Prince Aegon’s fifteenth nameday arrived. Ravens with congratulations and messengers with gifts and promises of support reached Harrenhal. Gendry had finished constructing the cloak clasp that Arya had requested, and she rushed to the forge to collect it. The artifact was beautiful, a direwolf’s head of pewter with golden eyes. Gendry had mixed a proper amount of tin and lead into the alloy to give it an inner silver-gray glow without being too glossy. Arya looked at him with shining eyes and said with awe, “Gendry, it’s beautiful! You are a wonderful craftsman!”

Gendry was smiling also, and he seemed rather excited. “I made some other things. Look at this.” He handed her an item of the same metal, a lady’s brooch of a direwolf’s head, also with golden eyes. “Sansa told me about her wolf, Lady, and that she had eyes like Nymeria. She misses her so much, and I made this gift for her.”

Arya nodded, “She will like this, Gendry. You are very thoughtful.”

The smith’s eyes were still sparkling with anticipation. “There is one more piece of jewelry. I made this for you.” He handed her another wolf-shaped brooch, but this one had the side view of a running animal, also with a golden eye. “Since you are always in motion, I thought an action figure would be best. Mayhaps it will remind you of me when we are far apart. I will miss you, and suppose that I will think on you often, lady wolf.”

She stared at him with large grey eyes, and Gendry could detect enough desire in them to make him uncomfortable. He had not been sure how she would react. Arya almost moved to bring her face close enough to kiss him, but stopped and reached for his hand instead. She grasped his fingers tightly, and spoke in a soft, emotional voice. “If I were a woman grown, and not spoken for, Gendry, and if you desired to remain a simple smith, working at this forge, I would gladly take you behind that curtain and happily spend my days with you. I will miss you, too. You have been a good friend. Sansa is very fortunate, and I hope she realizes it.”

Gendry squeezed her fingers gently, and responded with some passion, “Mayhaps we will meet again in Winterfell someday, and will have many japes to trade. Now go bring that gift to your Prince, I am eager to learn what he thinks of it.”

Arya released his hand, and turned to go, waiting until she was out of sight before wiping away a revealing tear in her eye. She realized that she still had feelings for the smith.

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Before finding Aegon, Arya saw Sarra first, and showed the Dornish girl his gift, saying, “I know he will like this! I am so excited!”

“It is beautiful, and the prince will probably kiss you when you give it to him,” Sarra observed.

“No doubt!” Arya replied.

Sarra smiled wickedly and told her, “When he does, try this.” She embraced Arya, who was used to intimate caresses from her frequent bedmate, and placed her lips lightly on the girl’s, and them moved them to Arya’s throat, giving her kisses that were more like soft pecks all the way up her neck, to the area behind her ear, then drawing her tongue around the shell of her ear.

Arya feel a distinct thrill from the contact, and when Sarra drew back and made eye contact, the younger girl’s eyes were wide and she exclaimed, “Oh, my!”

“Kiss him like that and watch his reaction. Just make sure you do it when you are alone with him,” Sarra smirked.

Arya grinned, “That should be fun!” She found the prince in his solar, playing a melancholy song on his harp, and presented the cloak clasp to him, saying, “We will part for only the gods know how long in a few days, and I wanted you to have something to remember me by. I asked Gendry to make this for you.”

He stood up and admired the gift, then looked at her with love and sadness. “I don’t need an object to remind me of you, as you will constantly be in my thoughts, but I appreciate the gesture and will treasure this.” His royal cape was hanging over a chair, and he attached the clasp to the garment. “It is beautiful. I will have to thank Gendry before he departs.” Then he embraced Arya and kissed her gently on the lips.

She returned his kiss, then moved her mouth to give him soft butterfly kisses along his neck, up to his ear, as Sarra had demonstrated. When she licked the shell of his ear, Aegon cried out, “Oh my, Arya! What are you doing?!” He broke the contact and looked closely at her.

Arya was used to Aegon’s affectionate glances, but for the first time she realized that he was looking at her with real lust in his eyes. He tightened his embrace, and Arya realized that he had become a stallion. Aegon gave her a quick deep kiss on the mouth, then copied the butterfly kisses on _her_ neck, then moved down and placed soft kisses on her throat also. His kisses thrilled her, and she could fell a yearning, tingling sensation in her center and pressed back against him. Now she realized what the kisses had done to him, and why Sarra had suggested that she kiss him like that.

“My lady,” Aegon said breathlessly, “I know we must part, but I am loath to be separated from you, and will be anticipating our eventual reunion with impatience. Please stay safe for my sake. I cannot imagine my life without you.”

The wolf girl also felt discombobulated, and replied, “I will miss you, and will think of you often. Stay safe for my sake, also.” She sighed and said, “Well, I better start packing. Lady Ashara has been nagging me to clean up our shared chambers, and it will not be an easy task picking up all my clothes and things.”

As she turned to leave, Aegon chuckled behind her, “Should I bring you a shovel?”

She didn’t turn around, but said over her shoulder, “No, a large broom might be of more use.”

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Squire Adrian made a life-changing decision. The knight he had been squiring for had been indifferent to his education, only requiring him to polish his armor occasionally. Adrian had no idea what he was missing until the other young people arrived and he had started taking lessons with them under Maester Haldon, swordplay instruction with Duck, and had joined Prince Aegon’s ‘culture club’. He had never been so happy in his life as he was with their camaraderie, and he was loath to see his new friendships end with the departure of the Winterfell youths. Of course, there was the matter of a pretty Northern girl with whom he was reluctant to part. Adrian approached Lord Stark and made his case to be taken on as _his_ squire. Ned said, “You realize that you will have to work hard at Winterfell, as I expect all my charges to seriously prepare to be lords and ladies. I have no patience with laziness. Lady Sansa has told me that you have shown an interest in education and the arts.” He paused and smiled at the youth, “Adrian, I am aware that your friendship with a certain young lady has also affected your decision.”

The squire’s face fell and he worried that Lord Stark would hold that against him. Instead Ned said, “Do not fear, as long as romance does not distract you from your responsibilities, I am not concerned. If your knight and father approve the change, I will take you on.”

Adrian thanked him profusely and rushed off to get the needed approval. As expected, the indifferent knight said, “Do what you will, I rarely needed you anyway.”

Ser Balman was suspicious, but his son explained that he would have the opportunity to rise higher in the world if he completed a Winterfell education. He spoke to the Warden of the North and was impressed by the noble and intelligent lord, and gave Adrian his permission to become Lord Stark’s squire.

The young man was overjoyed and ran to find Jeyne, who was chatting with Sansa as usual. The girls were still discussing the wedding and its aftermath. Adrian caught Jeyne’s eye and motioned for her to join him. Jeyne excused herself and followed him out of the castle. He took her hand and walked her to the Godswood. Jeyne was expecting that Adrian had planned to bid her a tearful farewell, but when she learned that he would be joining the Stark party, she became excited and gave him a big hug. Adrian returned the embrace and started kissing her, and they picked up where they had left off when they had fallen asleep under the same tree. They continued kissing intimately until Jeyne realized that one hand was inside her bodice and the other was moving up her bare thigh toward her secret place, and the image of a disapproving Septa Mordane appeared in her mind. Jeyne abruptly broke the embrace and moved away, murmuring, “We should stop.”

They were both breathing hard and were sweaty and disheveled, and Adrian reluctantly nodded in agreement.

But now Jeyne smiled. “We will have many opportunities to get to know each other better now,” and took his hand, intending to take him to Sansa and tell her the good news. Adrian thought, _Yes, she is right! I am going to Winterfell!_ And he was very pleased.

Gendry saw Adrian as both were approaching the dining hall for lunch. The massive blacksmith smiled down at the small squire and said, “Yo, Adrian, I heard that you are going to Winterfell! I expect that we will continue to spend more time together, as all of Lord Stark’s wards will be expected to work hard at their letters and sums, swordplay, and riding. Of course, our female acquaintances will make the hours more pleasant.”

Adrian returned the smile. He admired the large youth, who was often in good humor, and always had a ready jape. Although only two namedays separated them, Gendry already had the body and beard of a grown man, and Adrian desperately wished his growth spurt would arrive. Every morning he rushed to his mirror, and was sorely disappointed to discover that no hair had appeared above his lip or on his chin. He felt as self-conscious as a green boy, especially when he was in the company of Sansa and Jeyne, and prayed that they did not think him a child. Adrian hoped that traveling to Winterfell would help him become a man.

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Arya went to the training yard for her last water dancing lesson with Bokko. When they were done sparring, she said, “Well, Bokko, this is farewell. I will be leaving for Dorne with Lady Nym in a few days. Thank you for all that you have taught me. Your instruction has been most valuable.”

The sellsword smiled at her, but his handsome face was marred by a black eye, earned when Arya nailed him with an elbow as he attempted to pinch her arse at the end of their last session. Rubbing his eye, he said at the time, “Fair enough, you win this round. You are an apt pupil, lady wolf.” Soon after arriving in the Targaryen camp, Arya’s tween growth spurt began in earnest. She had started growing taller in typical Stark fashion and her torso and long legs had commenced filling out. Her facial features had also grown larger, and she looked less like a child. Bokko, the dog that he was, had not failed to notice her incipient maturation. Now he said to her, “I would like to kiss you goodbye.”

Arya accepted his kiss, but denied his tongue entrance to her mouth as he squeezed her tightly. He was not a stallion, but he pressed himself forcefully against her center, while sliding his hands along the back of her thighs and cupping her arse. Bokko whispered in her ear, “Lady wolf, when we next meet, I expect that you will be a maiden. I want to dance with you in a featherbed, and really show you how it can be done.”

Arya was a little thrilled by the passion in his voice and his suggestive tone, but she was also put off, as she was not really attracted to him. She gently pulled away from his body and met his eyes, responding in a neutral voice, “I will consider it,” as she did not want to alienate her mentor. She left him, feeling very awkward by the whole encounter, thinking, _I trust Bokko as my teacher. It is not suitable for him to speak like that. I will talk to Lady Nym. Growing up is confusing!_

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Ned remained in Harrenhal for a few days after the meeting to spend more time with Arya, who was growing up much too fast, and soon he must take leave of her for only gods knew how long. Lord Stark told his younger daughter, “Arya, since you are not returning to Winterfell, you should write a letter to your lady mother. She will certainly expect some communication from you, and will be wroth if you ignore this responsibility.”

Arya sighed, “You are right, Father, and I have focused too much on the bad memories I have of my mother. Now that I have grown up a bit, I am not afraid to tell her how much I have changed.”

Lord Stark’s eyes twinkled and he grinned, “Your mother will be most interested in your relationship with Prince Aegon. I’m sure that I will be discussing it with her myself, but I think it would be best if she learns about it from you first.”

Biting her lower lip, the wolf girl replied, “This letter will require careful thought. Mayhaps I should avoid any distractions and go to the library to compose it. I’ll give it to you when I am done.”

Her father was still smiling, “I will be watching her face closely when she reads it. I’m sure her expression will be most amusing.”

“Well, if you want Mother to be surprised, you better tell Sansa and Jeyne to keep their big, stupid mouths shut!”

“You are right! The gossips in our family could spoil everything! I will talk to them.”

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Ned, Sansa, and the Stark party were preparing to leave Harrenhal. Lord Stark saw his older daughter approaching, her pretty face beaming with happiness. “Look, Father,” she said excitedly, “Look what Gendry made for me.” She showed him the beautiful brooch that the young smith had crafted, now pinned prominently to her gown.

He admired the piece of fine jewelry and considered, _Gendry is truly a talented artist! I wonder if I am doing the right thing in urging him to be a knight or a lord. Mayhaps he can follow both pathways. I will think on this when we are in Winterfell._ He smiled at his romantic daughter, “This is beautiful, Sansa. The lad must value you highly. I hope you appreciate his effort.”

“Oh, yes, Father,” she gushed, “I think that I love Gendry, and I am prepared to tell my lady mother so.”

Ned inwardly sighed, thinking, _I hope none of my sons have issues, as my lady and I have much to discuss concerning our daughters. Mayhaps I can go to war, and avoid all this talk._ But he smiled again and told her, “I will be Gendry’s advocate with Mother, so you can count on my support.”

Sansa hugged her father, giggling, “Thank you, Father! Now I have to go find Jeyne. We need to finish packing! I can’t wait to get home!”

Watching her depart, he thought, _That makes two of us._

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Ned also needed to converse with Lord Jon before leaving, because they had to discuss the serious matter of announcing the betrothal of Aegon and Arya at some appropriate time in the future. Since Arya would be in Dorne with Lady Nymeria, they requested the Sand Snake join them. All three agreed to exchange ravens often and keep each other informed about the progress of the war, and the development of the young people. They wished each other success and hoped that their efforts would be successful.

After he bid farewell to Connington, Ned spoke to Lady Nym, who would be Arya’s mentor now. “I will trust you to protect my daughter’s virtue.”

Nym responded, “We may have different definitions of virtue, Lord Stark. I will inspire Arya to be a moral person, but if she flowers while in my care, and decides to explore her sexuality, I will not judge her. Treating a woman’s maidenhead as property for men to barter is not in my philosophy.”

Ned bit his lip and looked concerned, “Arya is forthright and impulsive. I beg you to be the adult and help her make good decisions, Lady Nym.”

Nym replied, “Trust me, Lord Stark, I love the girl, and will give her my best guidance.”

Ned turned to go, knowing that Arya’s future was beyond his control now. _At least I will still have Sansa to raise as Catelyn and I believe would be correctly,_ he thought, _I wonder what Arya will be like the next time I see her._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, I have let a whole week pass since I uploaded my last chapter. Please do not think that I have lost my enthusiasm or run out of ideas. Quite simply, real life has interfered. I have had four glorious months devoted to traveling and writing, but I started teaching my college classes this past week and have been distracted. I promise that ‘The Honored Guest’ will continue at a regular pace, and I hope that you will continue to be entertained by it.


	33. Partings

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 33 Partings 

Prince Aegon went to the Harrenhal forge and hesitated at the doorway, seeing Gendry busy at work. The young smith felt eyes on him, turned and put down his hammer. Aegon nodded and said, “Thank you for making the cloak clasp, you are a skilled craftsman, Gendry, and I envy you.”

“Do not envy me, your grace,” Gendry responded, “Your skill with a harp and song is something I could never do.”

Aegon grinned, “Aye, I guess we are both artists in different fields. I wish you good fortune at Winterfell and with your Stark lady.”

“And I must wish you good fortune with _your_ Stark lady!” Gendry smiled back, “From what I have seen of the wolf girl, she will keep your life interesting.”

“I have no doubt about that,” the Prince replied while rolling his eyes, “Mayhaps fortune will favor all of us and we will meet again in happier times, mayhaps even in Winterfell. I look forward to that day,” and they clasped forearms and parted.

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Squire Adrian went to say goodbye to Arya. He shyly said to her, “I will miss watching your graceful water dancing, and your liveliness during lessons. I expect education at Winterfell may be more boring if you are not present to goad us into a competition.” Now he looked at her shrewdly, “You seem to have a special bond with Gendry and I imagine that you will miss each other.”

Arya blushed a little bit at his suggestion, replying, “Aye, Gendry and I share some common interests. I have enjoyed meeting you and I hope you like Winterfell. My brothers are friendly, but look out for Theon, as he is full of mischief, and will no doubt tease you.” Then she looked closely at the squire, “Adrian, please do something for me. If you notice Jeyne being mean to a younger girl, I want you to whisper, ‘Arya is watching.’ Mayhaps it will keep her honest.”

Adrian thought, _I did not know that my love can be mean! I will have to see if Arya speaks truly._ He kissed her hand formally, saying, “Adieu, Lady Arya.”

The wolf girl snickered, “I’m not a lady.”

Now it is Adrian’s turn to chuckle, “You could have fooled me! Whether you accept it or not, you _are_ a lady.”

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The members of the Stark party were mounting their horses, and Arya said farewell to the Northmen, wishing them good fortune. Jory, Harwin, and many of the guardsmen had known her from a red-faced, squalling babe, and later as ‘Arya underfoot’, and were very fond of her, so now they returned her goodbyes and predicted that she would someday return to Winterfell. She smiled one last time at Adrian and Gendry, who were trying to find comfortable positions on their mounts, and simply nodded coldly at Jeyne and Septa Mordane. She saw her sister and hesitated, not sure what she should do. Sansa settled the matter by approaching her with outstretched arms and a smile, and embraced the younger girl, stating, “I know that we have had differences and have often quarreled, sweet sister, but I believe we are parting on better terms, don’t you?”

Arya found herself impulsively hugging Sansa tightly and nodded into her chest, “Aye, I am not angry at you anymore. Give my love to our brothers and tell them that I miss them, but I have always wanted to travel the world, and now I have the opportunity.”

“And you also have a storybook romance with a prince! The boys will be amused to hear that story, I wager!” Sansa grinned mischievously.

“I can’t deny that Aegon and I have a special friendship, and we will see where that leads us,” she squeezed her sister one last time and drew back, “Be good to Gendry and see that he continues his lessons. Visit him when he is at the forge and praise his work. He will like that. Gendry is big and strong, but he lacks blood lust. You will have to encourage him to spar often and learn swordplay as is expected of him.”

Sansa looked at her sister with wide eyes. “You certainly seem to know him well.”

“I told you not long ago that if I wanted him, he would be mine, but now I only want the best for him at Winterfell, and you can make that happen. Metalworking is as important to Gendry as embroidery is to you, Sansa. It wouldn’t hurt to learn about his craft. It will bring you closer together.”

“But it is so hot and sweaty and dirty at the forge,” Sansa complained, making an unhappy face.

“Exactly! It is hot and sweaty, and Gendry works shirtless! Do I need to say any more?” the wolf girl smirked suggestively.

“Arya! Mother would never approve of what you are implying!”

“That is correct! Gendry and I have really had some fun under those conditions, and so can you!” Arya laughed.

Now her sister returned as clever an expression as she could muster. “Arya, I am going to give you the identical advice. You should appreciate Aegon’s gift for music and poetry more. As you have spent more time with Gendry at _his_ craft, I have marveled at the prince’s talent for romantic song and verse. I have heard it said he will be as renowned as his father for it. You should pay more attention to the arts, sister. I have seen in the Great Hall that your favorite warrior woman, Lady Nymeria, has much affection for song and dance, and Sarra has commented favorably on Aegon’s poetry in my presence. Really, Arya, as a lady of a Great House, you should be more refined than a sellsword!” Then she giggled, “Besides, it will bring you closer together!”

Arya looked very thoughtful. “There is much truth to what you say, Sansa, and I will certainly consider it. You are right, my taste in entertainment is coarser than Aegon’s, and I haven’t given him as much credit for his creativity as he deserves from me. I will pay more attention in the future. Well, I better go find Father and say farewell. I know he is eager to be off. I am glad that we have become closer, too, Sansa,” and she gave her sister one last squeeze before turning to go.

She saw that her father was not far away. Before mounting his horse, Ned embraced his younger daughter, observing that she was biting her lip and trying not to cry. He found that he was holding back tears, also.

“I will miss you so much, Father,” Arya said, sounding very much like a tiny child, “Being with you would be the main reason I might consider going home, but I really need to travel. Mayhaps I will return to Winterfell when I am older.”

“I will miss you too, sweetling, and will think of you often,” and he kissed the top of her head.

“Here is the letter I have written for Mother. Tell her that I _do_ love her,” Arya wiped her eyes as she gave Ned a fat parchment scroll, sealed with a spot of grey wax imprinted with the image of a snarling direwolf.

Ned grinned, “I cannot wait to watch her read this! Goodbye, my love, and stay safe until we meet again.” He swung himself up into his saddle, now addressing his captain, “Come, Jory, it is time to depart,” and Jory gave the signal.

\----------------------------------

Arya found Ashara in her chamber and climbed into her surrogate mother’s lap, a gesture they both loved, but the former septa observed now that the girl was bigger than when she first arrived in camp. The wolf girl squeezed her and spoke softly into her chest, “I appreciate that you were sympathetic to my differences and did not force me to do those things that Septa Mordane wanted me to do. You, Lord Jon, and Maester Haldon helped me grow up and not feel self-conscious about being different from other girls.” Haldon had pointed out to both Lord Jon and Ashara that Arya was left-handed and suggested that her lessons should be geared to her dominant hand, effectively improving Arya’s penmanship. Ashara showed her how to embroider with her left hand, and although the girl eschewed needlework, she learned that she was not as hopeless at the skill as others had led her to believe.

“You are growing up fast, Arya, and your moonblood will probably arrive while you are in Dorne. You know what that means, don’t you?”

Arya nodded, not meeting her eyes.

“I have no doubt that Lady Nymeria will be explaining all the things that men and women do together, but I want you to keep in mind that some of those activities are best done with someone you truly love. Think of Aegon before you do anything rash, sweetling,” Lady Ashara continued.

Now Arya made eye contact with her, “You are saying that I should save my maidenhead for him, right?”

Ashara nodded, “Aye, I have been Aegon’s septa for most of his life, and I know him to be a moral and steadfast youth. He has made it clear that the only girl he is interested in is you. Boys only have a mental maidenhead, but the prince implied that he is saving himself for you.”

“I will remember that when I am faced with a choice.”

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Before leaving with Lady Nym for Maidenpool and their ship, Arya went to say farewell to Homeless Harry and her other friends in Golden Company. The ‘little wolf princess’ had been a favorite and a good luck charm to Prince Aegon’s sellsword army, and they had made her an honorary member after the battle for Harrenhal. She told him that she would miss playing cyvasse with him and looked forward to meeting up again, and that she was proud to be a member of Golden Company.

\----------------------------------

Nym and Ashara were partaking of wine and reminiscing in Ashara’s chambers, which were unusually clean now that Arya had packed up all her possessions. Lady Ashara had a bright smile on her face. “If a seer had told me all those many months ago when a lost, frightened, yet bold girl child appeared suddenly in our camp, that I would end up loving her like a daughter, and for my efforts, become a close friend to a vivacious warrior woman, and the wife of an illustrious knight, I would have shaken my head and said that she had drunk too much wine. Yet these events have come to pass, and I could only be happier if there was peace in the land.”

Lady Nym returned her smile and responded, “I know that at times you were wroth with my behavior, but I cannot apologize for being myself, and I have enjoyed your friendship since I have arrived in the Crownlands.” The Sand Snake chuckled, “I hope you have been as amused as I have by our minor quarrels over our differing ‘parenting styles’ in regards to Arya, and realize that she has been greatly influenced by _both_ of us.”

“Aye, Lady Arya is a perceptive, independent, and intelligent girl, and mayhaps together we have tried to prepare her to become a great woman,” Ashara observed.

“I believe that you have helped raise the prince to be a sensitive and thoughtful young man, and I expect that you will continue to be his guide and conscience. Cousin Aegon has qualities that are necessary for the future ruler of Westeros, and I think he is worthy of our wolf girl.” Nym’s eyes gleamed, “She will be his equal, if we do our jobs correctly. Imagine them benevolently ruling Westeros together, sharing responsibilities and wise counsel! After this war, mayhaps there will a lasting peace that the bards will sing about!”

“Lady Nym, I believe that you actually have a sentimental and romantic soul that you try to mask with your earthy facade. You cannot fool me!” Ashara giggled.

“You have exposed me!” Nym sighed, “I _do_ hope that our young lovers can be a positive force for the world, and will do my best to make it so. Now, look at this, as I promised, I have a gift for you,” she said as she placed a book on the small table between them. Lady Ashara observed the title of the tome and blushed. It read ‘The Joy of Coupling’ by a Maester Comfort.

Out of curiosity, Nym had gone to the Harrenhal library, and sure enough, saw that there was a section devoted to forbidden and banned books secured behind a locked iron gate. She prepared herself with subtle eye makeup and translucent silks, and found a middle-aged maester to query. _Maesters are celibate, but they are still men,_ she reasoned, and she was confident that she could bend him to her will. With a demure and wide-eyed expression and a subtly seductive bearing, she wove a tale for the maester, who unlocked the gate for her and let her enter. The clever Sand Snake even brushed against him as she reached for the book she desired, and her perfume and the touch of her torso clouded his senses in a pleasing way.

Now she addressed Ashara, “I told you that I would help you find pleasure as a married woman, and this book contains excellent instruction. Look at how detailed the drawings are! In more prudish locales, this book is rare, but it is a favorite in Dorne, Braavos, and Lys.”

As she turned page after page, Ashara blushed a deeper and deeper red, her eyes going as wide as saucers, muttering, “Oh, my! Oh, my!” from time to time. Finally she looked at the not-so-innocent young woman, “But Lady Nym, are some of these, er, ‘positions’ actually possible?”

Nym laughed, “Yes, they are, and you and your knight will enjoy them once you master them.” She giggled, “Actually, the experimentation is more fun than anything! I will always remember my first times using this book. But as I said earlier, you will have to prepare yourself. Now that you are sufficiently loosened up with wine, I will teach you some stretching exercises. Put down your goblet and join me on the floor,” she slurred, as she uncharacteristically fell heavily and gracelessly on the carpet. Ashara joined her and giggling continually, the new bride learned the mysterious ways of the alien art of yoga from her mentor.

 _I cannot believe how my uninhibited Dornish friend has influenced me._ Ashara reflected, _I was a chaste septa when we met, and now I am wed and planning to please my husband like a courtesan in a pleasure house! I suppose I should thank her, but it would only make her smirk, ‘I told you so!’_

\----------------------------------

The Dornish party intended to ship out of Maidenpool and was fortunate to find a vessel that had space for their sand steeds. Lord Jon, Aegon, Ser Rolly, and a small honor guard accompanied them, although the women really did not require an escort. Jon reflected how three warrior women, one apprentice swordswoman, and three handmaidens trained to use daggers, would represent a lethal threat to any band of ruffians attempting to molest them. Fare-thee-wells were exchanged, and Arya and Aegon attempted to be stoic in public, having had a private leave-taking previously. The cute couple shared a short embrace and a chaste kiss, and mumbled words like, “Take care of yourself,” and “I’ll write often”. But it was Nymeria the direwolf that caused them to lose their composure. Nymeria was fond of the prince, and often slept in his chambers. Some in Golden Company japed that Duck and Nymeria composed the core of his future Kingsguard. When it was time to board, Nymeria ignored Arya’s whistle, and disobeyed her strongest ‘Come’ command. Instead, Nymeria pressed herself against Aegon’s leg, rubbed her head into the palm of his hand, and whined plaintively, staring up at him with her expressive golden eyes.

Aegon was the first to break down, and he sobbed as tears rolled down his cheeks. Arya started crying next, and the pair fell to the earth, both embracing Nymeria and each other and bawling loudly. It was a pitiful sight. Lord Jon approached Aegon and put a firm hand on his shoulder, saying forcefully, “Come away, my prince, I swear by the Seven that this is not the end, and both of you shall meet again!”

Lady Nym approached also, and put a soothing hand on Arya’s trembling shoulder. She leaned close to Lord Connington, and whispered, “Take care of the Prince, for both my sake and Arya’s.” She kissed Jon on the cheek, and to her surprise, he threw all caution to the wind and embraced her, initiating a deep, passionate tongue kiss. Lady Nym returned his ardor, employing all her art to give him an experience that he would never forget, running her fingers through his graying hair, and stroking the back of his neck and behind his ears.

Jon kept his hands firmly and chastely on the young woman’s back, but he held her so tightly that he felt the shape of her perfect breasts pressed against his chest, and could swear he felt her teats harden through his tunic. Nym was the first to break the contact, leaning back, panting and shaking. She regarded Jon with large damp eyes and a neutral expression. “You should have done that when you had a chance some time ago.” But then her true nature returned and she grinned with a flirtatious gleam in her eyes, “Mayhaps you will be eager to repeat that performance the next time we meet!” Finally, Nym gazed down at Arya, saying in an authoritative voice, “Enough weeping, lady wolf. We are warrior women and we must be strong!” She looked at Nymeria now. “Think of our namesake, Queen Nymeria of the 10,000 ships! As bold a woman as ever there was!” She helped Arya to her feet as the younger girl muttered over and over, “I am a warrior woman and must be strong!” But Arya would not make eye contact with Aegon for fear of showing weakness again, and let herself be led to the gangplank. Nymeria the direwolf followed, her head drooping and her tail between her legs.

It was Duck who led both the dazed and confused Lord Jon and a melancholy Prince Aegon away from the pier. As they watched the ship cast loose and set sail, Nymeria and the wolf girl were standing at the rail with disconsolate looks on their faces, waving their arms in a final farewell. Duck impulsively turned to Jon and chuckled, “Well, milord, you just proved to the men that you are human after all.”

Jon looked even more confused, “What do you mean, Duck?”

“There is not a man in camp who has not dreamt of the Sand Snake wriggling in his bed at night, and they are well aware that you have refused her advances several times. The men are convinced that you must be some kind of heartless machine if you can find the will to rebuff the most desirable girl in camp! Now the word will spread that you are a normal man and cannot resist that seductive wench. Be prepared for some japes.”

Jon’s senses had returned and he pondered this. “It seems strange to me that if Lady Nym can amuse herself with any man she chooses, why does she favor Bokko, the lad you chose to be Arya’s water dancing instructor? He seems like a perfectly ordinary sellsword to me.”

Duck chuckled again. “Bokko fancies himself a ladies man, milord, and boasts that his goal is to give women pleasure. Last year he made a wager that he could pleasure six sober camp followers sequentially and start all over again without a break. Much money changed hands, and he won the wager. Of course, he lost ten pounds in the process and slept for two days. He did not touch a woman for a whole week afterwards.”

Lord Connington shook his head. “Now I am sorry that I asked the question.”

Ser Rolly smirked, “In any case, it is obvious that Bokko know how to satisfy that demanding and dangerous warrior woman.” He paused, “Mayhaps it is better that you did not succumb to her charms, milord. I am afraid that she might have killed you.”

Now Jon looked startled. “What do you mean?”

“Bedding her almost killed me, milord, and you are a much older man. I fear that your heart might give out. But I promise that you would die with a smile on your face.”

Jon just shook his head ruefully. “Campfire talk, Duck. Let us get back to the castle. We have work to do. Prince Aegon, are you more composed now?”

The heartbroken youth looked anything but princely – his nose was running and his eyes were red and swollen. However, he wiped his eyes and sniffled, but nodded his agreement.

“Well, if the wolf girl means so much to you, I promise that you will have a pleasant reunion someday! Keep that in mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ‘Joy of Coupling’ Get it?
> 
> Did you find Arya’s and Aegon’s parting as poignant as I did? Please let me know.


	34. Traveling by Land and by Sea I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, it has been more than ten days since I last posted. Unfortunately, I had to flee my waterfront home before the threat of an approaching hurricane, and I was a refugee from the storm for a stressful week. Luckily, the storm surge came no closer than a few feet from my house and damage was minimal in my immediate neighborhood, although nearby neighborhoods did suffer more problems. I am home now and writing, and I hope to continue publishing on a regular schedule, assuming that the weather here remains calm. The next three chapters will be short, so I can post often. Thank you for patience and interest.

Chapter 34 Traveling by Land and by Sea I 

When Maidenpool was finally out of sight, Arya reluctantly turned away from the rail. She felt an emptiness inside from parting with Aegon. When her favorite brother Jon had left Winterfell for the Wall, she had been dejected, but this feeling seemed to be worse. When Arya had arrived in the Targaryen camp, she had quickly made friends with the young prince, having previously been a constant tomboy companion to her older brothers. Aegon proved to be as good a playmate as her brothers. He did not make a big deal about playing with a girl, and after at first trying to be a dominant male and finding that she was resistant to being intimidated simply by gender, accepted her as an equal. Aegon had four more namedays than Arya, but the lad was actually quite unworldly, and the wolf girl was mature for her years, so they related to each other as equals in age. She had enjoyed their innocent pastimes such as wrestling with Nymeria, climbing, riding, sparring, and lessons, but after a while the prince made it clear that he had a romantic interest in her. At first she was annoyed and uncomfortable, but she had eventually come to enjoy his attention. Arya learned that responding to a male admirer did not automatically turn her into a simpering, star-eyed maiden, a concept that she had always hated. She found that she was still as smart and capable as previously even if she did now enjoy Aegon’s embrace and relish his kisses. Now that they had physically parted for gods know how long, she felt his absence keenly, and a sense of loss pervaded her body. Arya had never expected to have such strong feelings for someone who was not a relative, and it was a difficult emotion for the young girl to cope with.

The wolf girl descended to the cabin that had been assigned to her, Nym, and Sarra, changed into her nightgown, and crawled into her berth, still red-eyed and sniffling, pulling the covers over her head. Nymeria the direwolf tried to curl up next to her, but finding the bed much too small for comfort, jumped down to the floor. Lady Nym entered, and when she heard her disconsolate disciple sniffling, joined her under the covers and embraced her. “Arya,” she whispered, “Keep your eyes shut and imagine that Aegon is here with you.” Nym nuzzled her cheeks and kissed her lightly on the lips while slipping her hands under the nightie, stroking and fondling her body gently, paying particular attention to her sensitive private areas, murmuring words of love softly into her ear. Arya stopped sniffling and moaned quietly with pleasure, returning a deeper kiss to Nym’s mouth and then laying back and allowing the Sand Snake to expertly massage and relax her body. The melancholy emotions faded from her mind, and she concentrated on the tingling feeling she was enjoying at her center, before finally losing consciousness. When Nym heard her softly snoring, she rose from the berth, and observed that Sarra had been watching them intently. The maiden was sitting on the other berth in her negligée, and she grinned; “Now it’s my turn. I need some attention, too.” Nym sighed, but smiled back at the girl and replied, “My work is never done,” as she started to undress.

When Arya awoke the next morning she felt refreshed and eager for adventure. She had never been to sea and rushed to get dressed and go up on the deck. She noticed that Nym and Sarra were closely tangled and snoring in the other berth. _I guess Sarra needed consoling last night, also,_ she thought. Fastening her belt, and grabbing her blades, she ran out of the cabin and up the companionway to the main deck, with Nymeria close behind her. The sun was bright and the sky was clear, giving her a wonderful view of the landscape passing by. Arya had a head for geography and reckoned that they were sailing eastward through the Bay of Crabs, with the headlands of Crackclaw Point on her right.

As she was enjoying the sights and listening to the waves crashing against the bow of the ship, she became aware of a large shadow looming over her. Arya turned around to see a huge, muscular, hairy, and particularly smelly and dirty sailor looking down on her with a wicked and lecherous sneer. “Well, you certainly are a pretty little thing, and most likely a maiden. I shall enjoy fucking you before I turn my attention to those older wenches I saw boarding yesterday,” he growled, reaching for her arm. He yelped in pain as he realized that her knife had immediately pressed against the hand holding her, and he was already bleeding. Now the sailor was angry, and he threatened her, gripping her arm more tightly, “You think that little knife can do me any harm? Now I am going to fuck you bloody, you little bitch!”

Instantly Arya had Needle out and poked his ribs as she hissed, “If my blades won’t help you come to your senses, mayhaps my hungry direwolf will convince you that you have made a big mistake in thinking that I am a helpless victim,” as she jerked her chin to his left. The sailor saw a wolf, as large as a small pony, snarling at him, saliva dripping from its long, sharp, and deadly teeth. He immediately released Arya’s arm and backed away, only to stumble into another body. Turning, he realized that his new acquaintance was the most beautiful of the women he had seen come aboard, and before he could move to grab her, the Sand Snake had a knife at his throat.

“Apparently you have been at sea so long that you mind has become muddled, or you would know that any impropriety directed at a Dornish woman will earn you much pain!” Lady Nym spat at the sailor. “Approach any of us again and you will surely die!” She shoved him away and continued, “I suggest you inform your mates that we are paying passengers and not whores for your entertainment! I have already spoken to your captain, but evidently he has not spread the word yet.” Turning her back to the sailor she said, “Come, Arya, let us break our fast.” Simultaneously, they sheathed their glittering blades and walked away. The trembling sailor noticed that the wolf continued to stare at him, before licking its lips and following the women to the galley. _All I wanted was a cure for my morning wood from that pretty little thing,_ he thought, shaking his head as he calmed down, _and all I got was hot tongue and cold shoulder! This will not be a pleasant voyage!_

As she had done at the Targaryen camp, Arya quickly made the ship her playground. Eschewing her silk robes, she donned her breeches and tunic again, stuck her dagger in her belt, but left Needle in her cabin, as the sword would only get caught in the riggings that she happily climbed. The sailors commented that the ‘wolf wench’ was like a monkey in the ropes, easily climbing to the top of the mast and sliding down the standing rigging to the deck for fun. She learned the arrangement of the running rigging and helped set the sails as the winds changed. The amused captain even taught her how to steer with the ship’s wheel and asked her if she wanted to stand a watch. Friendly sailors told her tall tales of the sea and taught her new curse words and how to tie knots. In return, Arya related soldiers’ ribald tales and landsmen’s foul language, to their great amusement. Of course, while on lookout duty in the crow’s nest, a young sailor, seeing her wolf safely down on the deck, once tried to steal a kiss, only to learn that she was just as dangerous with only a dagger. The sailors eventually learned that although temptingly beautiful, the armed women were not for their amusement. For their part, Arya and the Dornish women were friendly to the polite and less lewd sailors, but as Lady Nym pointed out, the mariners were much too dirty, smelly, and disease-ridden to bed. In any case, the captain had warned the men that their commission would not be paid in full until the Dornish party arrived unmolested at Sunspear, so the women were to be treated like valuables while shipboard.

Lady Nym insisted that everyone continue swordplay training, and off-duty sailors enjoyed the sight of the lovely ladies sparring gracefully around the deck. The women also practiced knife-throwing, which was a favorite pastime of men at sea, so there was much competition, and money changed hands often from wagers. Arya even won a few gold dragons. Sailors frequently tried to wager gold in exchange for a lady’s favors, and the women had to politely decline those terms when entering a knife-throwing contest.

To the dismay of both Arya and Sarra, Haldon had sent along some history books with Lady Nym, who was to monitor their writing assignments. As she put it to the girls, “Just because we are traveling, does not mean that your formal education should be neglected.” Arya grumbled, but found time to write a report about troop deployment during Robert’s Rebellion, which she actually found interesting. Sarra loved politics, and studied the changing responsibilities of the King’s Hand from the time of Aegon I to the present. To satisfy her interest in accounting, Arya observed the ship’s stores and calculated daily rations and how long supplies were expected to last. Spending some hours in the hold also gave her more time to practice knife work by skewering rats, and she became quite good at that skill.

No detail of shipboard life was lost on the sharp-eyed wolf girl, and one night, while cuddling with Nym during secrets-sharing time, she ventured, “Lady Nym, it seems to me that the ship’s cabin boys are expected to share the beds of the older sailors.” Her face had a shy expression as she continued, “Can men bed men, as women do, and give each other pleasure?”

Nym nodded, not sure how much detail she should reveal to the curious youngster. “Yes, they can, in their own way. Sailors may be at sea for long periods of time, and have no access to female company, so they must have other ways of finding satisfaction.”

Arya bit her lip and looked worried, “But do the boys have any choice in the matter? It is obvious that a sailor can easily overpower any reluctant boy. If I was unarmed and unprotected, those sailors would have raped me repeatedly by now.”

The Sand Snake sighed, “Aye, I have no doubt that most of the boys would decline the attention if they had any say. But that is the way of the sea, and we cannot interfere.”

Now the girl’s eye’s flashed and she looked determined, “When we arrive in Dorne, I am going to tell the cabin boys that they can leave the ship if they want to, and I will help find them another way to live. Mayhaps I will have to buy their freedom. I have won some gold. Would you help me if I needed more? Father would send me some dragons if I sent him a raven.”

Lady Nym smiled, “You have a good heart, Arya. Aegon would be proud of you. Yes, I will help you to improve the lives of one ship’s worth of cabin boys. But you must realize that they can easily be replaced from any seaport’s population of orphaned gutter rats, and there are thousands of similar ships at sea.”

"I know that, but I can’t ignore what I see here and now. I have to do something.”

Her mentor looked very thoughtful, “You know, Arya, you may not like me saying this, but you will make a fine queen.”

Arya blushed and frowned, “Aargh! I hate when anyone says that! But I must do what I think is right if I have the power to do so. Father would agree with me.”

Nym murmured, “And Lord Connington would also agree. Both of those honorable men are always looking towards a better future for Westeros. I hope they are right. Now go to sleep, you have given me much to consider.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: We need to give some attention to the antagonists of this tale: The Lannisters plot in Red Keep
> 
> Later: The Stark party on the road north


	35. Lions Scheming in the Red Keep

Chapter 35 Lions Scheming in the Red Keep 

The Lannister brain trust, such as it was, gathered in the Regent’s solar. No one was in a particularly good mood. Queen Regent Cersei was still fuming at Lord Stark’s successful escape, and her inability to punish Arya Stark for having the audacity to attack the crown prince. She was surprised that the impulsive child and her wolf had even been able to evade her search parties, and Jaime Lannister and the Hound were embarrassed by that fact. She was also upset by the deaths of two members of the Kingsguard, killed in pursuit of the Starks. Ser Meryn and Ser Boros would always do her bidding without hesitation, no matter how unsavory, and she would miss her minions.

Jaime Lannister was pacing back and forth, bored and restless due to inaction. The impatient soldier was spoiling for a fight, having let Ned Stark, a man he despised, slip through his hands, and he wanted to go after the Stark party. His father and sister counseled him not to take such an action, since they assumed that the Golden Company was advancing on King’s Landing, and he would most likely get caught behind enemy lines. Nevertheless, Ser Jaime felt very ineffective while he was forced to remain immobile in Maegor’s Holdfast.

Lord Tywin, the Hand, was unhappy about the loss of the Harrenhal castle, the dead and captured troops, and most of all, the death of Ser Amory Lorch, one of his most effective lieutenants. Ser Amory was cruel and hard, a warrior with an attitude very similar to his own, and he had been dependable for carrying out Tywin’s often ruthless orders.

Cersei was still brooding about the recent official activities. The courtiers had looked worried and uncomfortable at Robert’s funeral, and did not express as much excitement and pleasure as she would have liked to see at Joffrey’s coronation. It was obvious that the Lannisters were not going to be popular rulers. She was angry that that many of the lords and ladies made haste to depart soon after the coronation, hoping to attain the safety of their castles before the siege of King’s Landing began.

They were all troubled by information from the surviving Goldcloaks who had fought at the Gate of the Gods. They had seen Ser Meryn felled by a youth with a hammer, and the boy was mostly likely Robert’s oldest bastard son. Cersei had intended to have him secretly killed, but Lord Stark had obviously known of his existence and spirited him safely out of King’s Landing. Although a bastard, the lad was the blood of the dead king and could be a future threat!

The Queen had another problem to deal with, one she had tried to ignore, but now had become too serious to overlook. She had always known that her favorite son Joffrey had a cruel streak, which was a Lannister trait, and had not intervened when he abused Sansa Stark. The girl was too meek to protest, believed that she loved Joffrey, and had not complained publically. Cersei had also observed how gleeful Joffrey was when he killed Tommen’s kittens, saying that he was just trying to make his weak little brother tougher. She had reluctantly come to the conclusion that Joffrey was a bully, but hoped that he would change as he matured. However, after his betrothal to Margaery, he started hurting her when they were together. The first time it happened he apologized, said it was an accident, and was excused, but by the third incident, Margaery, a perceptive young woman, noticed his feral eyes, and slapped his face hard, called him an arsehole, and walked away in a huff. Mace Tyrell and his influential mother, Olenna, became angry and muttered between themselves, shooting dark looks at Joffrey. Now they always viewed him with suspicion, and Margaery was very wary of him. Joffrey refused to discuss his questionable behavior, and Cersei was afraid that if he persisted in hurting his intended, there would be embarrassing repercussions.

The Lannisters in the Red Keep did have one source of distraction – the arrival of ravens from Tyrion, who was presently at the Wall. When the royal party plus the Stark entourage left Winterfell, Tyrion had opted to remain in the North. The library at Winterfell was known to be one of the best in all of Westeros, and Tyrion had happily done much research there during the royal visit. He was fascinated by dragons, and there were many dusty books and ancient manuscripts devoted to that topic. While his family returned to the south, Tyrion rode north with Benjen Stark and Jon Snow, intent of exploring the vast collection of documents in the library at the Wall. He also smirked that he had always dreamed of ‘pissing over the edge of the world’.

When a raven arrived bearing the details of the ugly incident at the Trident involving his nephew Joffrey and Arya Stark, and the falling out between the Starks and Baratheons, Tyrion realized that it would not be safe for him to return to Winterfell and parts further south as originally planned. He considered taking a ship out of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, but after learning that Blackwater Bay was being patrolled by Stannis Baratheon’s ships, he realized that traveling by sea was also unsafe, and decided to remain at the Wall for the time being.

Tyrion reflected on his observations of the Stark children. All the sons and both daughters had been given equal access to an excellent education under the direction of the very capable Maester Luwin. The oldest sons, Robb and the bastard Jon, were both good lads, intelligent and responsible - appropriate heirs to Lord Stark. It was a shame that the bastard son felt that he had no future at Winterfell, and joined the Night's Watch. The older daughter, betrothed to Prince Joffrey, would soon flower, and she was already a beauty like her mother. He tried to remember the younger daughter, Arya, who he was told had attacked the prince. Tyrion recalled her as a wiry tomboy usually clad in her brother’s breeches, with lustrous brown hair woven into a long braid, her only feminine feature. Her brothers told him with pride in their voices that she was the best rider among the siblings, and the cleverest at lessons. It was obvious that her older brothers doted on her. She was also a favorite among the smallfolk of the castle, and he recollected that the women in the kitchen, when gossiping about their noble family, believed that she would mature into a beauty resembling her aunt Lyanna.

Tyrion was very observant, and wrote with wit and humor, describing his experiences at the Wall in letters to his family. He also sent his insights on the Stark siblings, since the Great House of the North had now become enemies of the family. He felt a little bit self-conscious about this, since Jon had declared that Tyrion was his friend. Tyrion did not have many friends, and he now considered that he might be betraying Jon Snow.

His family in the Red Keep enjoyed his letters, and Tywin commented that although Tyrion’s weakness for the pleasures of the flesh, and his misshapen form were shameful to Lannister pride, his mind was distinctly Lannister. Lord Tywin was also concerned about what Tyrion wrote about Arya Stark. More survivors of the Battle for Harrenhal had recently arrived in King’s Landing, and related that they had observed the Stark girl getting knocked from her horse as she attempted to divert a runaway destrier from colliding with Aegon Targaryen, and that Aegon appeared to be very agitated that she might have been hurt. Not only was she not a hostage, mayhaps the prince had some affection for the girl, and the Lords Connington and Stark were planning on a match between the youths. Tywin did not relish an alliance by marriage between the North and the Dragons. If Winterfell decided to support Prince Aegon militarily, the Riverlands and the Vale most likely would follow suit, and the Lannisters’ quest to rule all of Westeros would be a much harder, if not impossible, task. Lord Tywin related his misgivings to his daughter.

Cersei responded with anger in her voice, “So I am to understand that the defiant younger Stark daughter that had the effrontery to attack Joffrey was welcomed into the Targaryen camp? And that she is clever and will resemble Lyanna Stark, who incited Robert’s Rebellion? That does not bode well.” Cersei remembered the Stark girl at Winterfell. Whereas most people lowered their eyes or looked fearful in her presence, Arya had faced her with insolence and distrust in hers. It was obvious that the girl did not like nor fear the queen. The queen reflected on the fate of the last Targaryen-Stark couple, _I hope this ends just as badly for Aegon and Arya._ Cersei had her own misgivings - Maggy the frog’s prophecy haunted her: _Queen you shall be…until there comes another, younger and more beautiful, to cast you down and take all that you hold dear._ She had thought that Margaery was the threat, but now it seemed more likely that the willful Stark girl was her true enemy. “Father, we have to do something.”

Jaime was about to speak, but Lord Tywin held up his hand. “Fear not. We cannot reach Lady Arya right now, but I have a plan to deal with the rest of those accursed Starks.” He spread out a map of Westeros and tapped on the image of Harrenhal castle. “Lord Stark has roughly four score of guardsmen remaining after fighting his way out of King’s Landing. His party is presently traveling north along the kingsroad and has no allies nearby.” He moved his hand lower on the map and now tapped on Riverrun. “Hoster Tully’s eyes are directed southward right now, concerned about my brother’s army marching on the goldroad.”

Tywin looked sharply at both his children, and now tapped on the Neck, “I will send a raven to Walder Frey informing him that the mangy wolves will be passing close to the Twins on their return to Winterfell. Although Lord Walder owes allegiance to the Great House of the Riverlands, there is little love between him and Lord Hoster. Ned Stark’s wife is a Tully, and his innumerable offspring are Lord Hoster’s grandchildren, so Lord Walder despises the Starks also.” Lord Tywin grinned malevolently, “I will suggest that the Stark party can be easily overpowered and those that survive an ambush can be held for ransom. I will imply that young King Joffrey would reward and find favor with the person who returned the traitor Stark, his impudent daughter Sansa, and the Baratheon bastard to the Red Keep.”

“Yes,” Cersei interjected, “Ned Stark needs to be tried and beheaded for treason to the crown, and Joffrey has unfinished business with Lady Sansa, who was extremely disrespectful to him and must be punished.”

Tywin continued. “With Lord Stark dead or captured, the North will be in disarray. Neither Lady Stark nor the young heir will be able to take control. Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort has always chafed under Stark domination, and I will inform him that he has King Joffrey’s permission to replace Ned Stark as Warden of the North and will appoint him Lord of Winterfell when he has ‘convinced’ the other lords to accept his promotion. I will inform him that we will offer military support as soon as that is possible.”

Jaime raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Cersei looked very pleased and replied, “I will be happy to see the end of those troublesome wolves. Your grandson still requires revenge on the she-wolf who has made herself comfortable among the dragons, too.”

“I haven’t forgotten that,” responded Tywin with a menacing smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Starks’ journey north may prove to be eventful.


	36. Traveling by Land and by Sea II

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 36 Traveling by Land and by Sea II 

After taking leave of the castle and their new friends, the Stark party rode north on the kingsroad, knowing that the journey to Winterfell might be a long one. The Harrenhal kitchen had provided them with enough provisions to last until they reached Lord Harroway’s Town, where they could resupply after crossing the Trident. By the third day on the road, the troupe had become complacent as they rode through the quiet countryside, and the line of horses was stretched out over a third of a league. Ned and Jory led the ensemble, trusted guardsmen protected the rear, and the noncombatants were in the middle. Suddenly Ned heard a shout behind him, and turning, saw a band of brigands running out of the forest, making straight for the girls and the other retainers. Ned, Jory, and the rest of the advance guard spurred their horses and raced back, hoping to intercept the bandits before they reached Sansa and the others. There were only about a score of armed men, and they were afoot, to their great disadvantage.

The leader, seeing that they had been discovered and were outnumbered, made haste to seize a captive in the form of Septa Mordane, but Gendry was nearby and reaching down from his horse, knocked the outlaw unconscious with the flat of his broadsword. The advance guard arrived, and killed a half dozen who attempted to fight, but the rest threw down their swords when they realized that they would soon be corpses. Ned approached with the intention of questioning their dazed leader, who was now having his arms tied behind his back. He learned that they were Lannister soldiers that had escaped capture during the Battle for Harrenhal, and had chosen a life of crime instead of returning to King’s Landing. They had been terrorizing the smallfolk of the nearby Riverlands before their fatal blunder of attacking the Stark party.

Lord Stark confronted the captured band of brigands with a stern expression. They were now bound with ropes, and most had fear and guilt written on their faces. The leader, who had been a sergeant under Ser Amory, looked defiant and unrepentant. Ned spoke to him harshly, “Since you made the choice to harass the smallfolk of this countryside, I condemn you to death for your crimes. Jory, find me a block of wood.” He turned to Gendry and Adrian and said, “Since both of you will be preparing to become lords, I want you to witness this execution. Know that he who passes the sentence should swing the sword. Taking a man’s life, any man’s life, should not be done lightly.”

Jory brought the block, and the bandit leader’s head was positioned over it. Ned repeated the sentence again, and swung Ice, severing the outlaw’s neck in one swift stroke. After glancing at the shocked and nauseous faces of his squire and Gendry, he turned to the horrified prisoners. “I realize that most of you are probably conscripts and had few choices since becoming Lannister soldiers, but you are criminals now. I will give you the opportunity to take the Black and join the Night’s Watch. If you refuse, you will share your leader’s fate.” He pointed at the headless corpse with Ice, now dripping with blood.

In a single voice, most of the captives shouted that they would be willing to go to the Wall rather than dying immediately, however three willful bandits stated that they would never agree to freezing their bollocks off at the end of the world for the rest of their lives, and Lord Stark had to perform three more executions. The act gave him no pleasure, and when it was done, he had pity for the lads, who were now retching behind a tree. Ned spoke again to the brigands. “You will travel with us to Winterfell, and thence be taken to the Wall. We will feed you and treat you fairly, but you must be bound and remain under guard at all times.” Ned sighed internally, _These extra mouths will put a strain on our provisions, but it would be cruel to kill them outright._

The journey northward became peaceful again after the attack, and was uneventful for several days until something happened that Ned was completely unable to deal with. He woke up one morning to sounds of pandemonium coming from the area where the women were camped to learn that Sansa and Jeyne had flowered during the night. The girls were hysterical and Septa Mordane and their handmaidens were trying to calm them down and explain what it meant now that they were women grown. Ned and the other men did not dare approach and looked at each other helplessly. By the time the party was ready to move on, the embarrassed maidens were persuaded to mount their horses, although they were very uncomfortable. Sansa and Jeyne insisted that the other women surround them, and refused to interact with any of the men. Adrian and Gendry were baffled, and Ned merely looked slightly amused. Luckily, it was on that afternoon that they arrived at the Crossroads Inn, and Septa Mordane, after a few terse words to the innkeeper, immediately spirited Sansa and Jeyne inside and upstairs to a room where they could enjoy the privacy they required.

The sympathetic innkeeper, Jeyne Heddle, a maid of only six and ten namedays, had inherited the inn when her father was murdered by a callous knight, and ran it with her younger sister, Willow, and a ragtag collection of orphans. There were no adults present, and the older orphan boys were the small community’s only protection. The sisters had brown eyes and long brown braids, and were quite thin. It was obvious that sufficient food was a luxury at the inn. Jeyne Heddle gave the visitors a friendly smile, especially Gendry, whom she gave a long look up and down, and welcomed them. Willow, however, who had six namedays less than her sister and was a head shorter, gave the newcomers a sour look and told them, “We have rooms for some of you, but not enough food to feed all of you.” She also looked at Ned, Jory, Adrian, and Gendry, tapped her foot, and in a bossy tone continued, “And you are not coming through my door until you wipe your boots. We just cleaned this floor!” She turned, and speaking with in loud, authoritative voice, called out to several of the boys to feed and stable the horses, and for others in the kitchen to prepare the dining room for guests. Ned and Gendry looked at each other in amazement and mouthed _Arya!_ at each other.

Willow turned back to Ned with a questioning gaze, and said, “You are obviously in command. We have room for your immediate household, and the soldiers can raise their tents nearby.”

Lord Stark nodded and replied, “We can provide food for ourselves and will be willing to share some in return for some of the beds. I will also pay silver for our accommodations.” Then he told Jory to summon his steward, Vayon Poole. Poole arrived with a very worried expression, obviously concerned about Jeyne. He was a widower and had no idea what he should do for her. Ned told him, “Do not worry about your daughter, as she is in good hands. Septa Mordane, the other maidens, and our hostess will take care of Sansa and Jeyne. Now, I need you to inspect our supplies and decide how much we can spare for the orphan children gathered here. Many of them have not had a full belly for quite a while.” He spoke once again to his captain, “Jory, send two men across the Trident and into the town to see if we will be able to restock our provisions for our journey north.” Ned was beginning to really feel weary, and looked forward to falling into a bed, be it a straw mattress or a featherbed, he did not care. However, he still had one major chore to deal with.

Finding Gendry and Adrian grooming their horses in the stable, Ned listened for a minute as he realized that Adrian was instructing the older boy about caring for his mount, a new concept for the city-born youth. Then Ned spoke and told them to meet him in the dining hall when they were done. When the lads arrived, they saw Lord Stark seated at a corner table with a flagon of wine and three goblets set before him. He motioned for them to join him and poured the wine. “Drink up, boys, your girls have become women grown, and now your problems really begin.” He threw his head back and downed his portion in one gulp. The youths followed his lead, and poor Adrian choked on his wine. Gendry pounded on his back until Adrian’s face changed from purple to red.

Ned poured another round and cautioned Adrian not to drink so fast this time. “I have some advice for you. Mayhaps it will help, mayhaps not. Nothing is guaranteed at this point.” He paused for emphasis and to take a sip of wine. “When your ladies return from their confinement, they will be grouchy and full of complaints. Your role is to nod and agree with them, and to show sympathy. Unless directly asked, do _not_ offer advice. They require a kindly ear, not instructions, especially from a hopeless male. _Be_ that compassionate listener, and you will have much less trouble.” The boys sipped their wine and nodded, displaying puzzled expressions.

“I have one more piece of advice for you, and it is most important, although somewhat contradictory. I caution you against getting into heated arguments with your ladies. No matter how right you think you are about the subject of the argument, if you do win, you have actually lost. You will gain nothing by making your lady angry with you. Winning an argument will only come back to bite you in the arse later.” Lord Stark finished his wine, upended his goblet on the table with a flourish, and stood up, “Now I have an appointment with a soft pillow. Good morrow to you, lads.”

When Ned had left, Gendry and Adrian looked intently at each other. Gendry broke the silence, “Do you have _any_ idea what Lord Stark was talking about?”

Adrian slowly replied, “I _think_ so. I think he was warning us that now that Sansa and Jeyne are maidens, their tongues can be just as dangerous to us as Arya’s practice sword in the training yard.”

Gendry nodded, “Now, _that_ I understand.”

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After a few days of remaining confined to an upstairs bedroom and having their meals sent up to them, Sansa and Jeyne felt sufficiently composed to join the household in the dining room. The men took great pains not to say anything that might embarrass them, which was a difficult feat, as the girls were still quite self-conscious. Sansa addressed Ned, “Father, there is no way that Jeyne and I are going to continue our journey on horseback. That is just simply not acceptable! You will have to find us a wheelhouse!”

Lord Stark rolled his eyes and thought, _Where in the seven hells am I going to find a wheelhouse! And how much would that cost?! Sansa is going to make me crazy!_

Willow, who had entered from the kitchen with two flagons of ale, laughed and announced, “There is an abandoned wheelhouse behind the stable. It is old, weathered, and rusty, but it is yours if you can fix it. One of the axles is broken.”

“Well, let’s take a look at it,” Ned motioned for Jory and Gendry to join him, and Adrian followed them out.

The wheelhouse was even in worse shape than Willow had described, and Gendry carefully examined the broken axle. Ned looked forlorn, but Gendry told him, “Milord, I think I can fix this. It won’t be easy, but I saw a small forge in the stable. It hasn’t been used in quite a while, judging by the amount of dust on the anvil, but if the tools I need still remain, this wheelhouse will move again.” He looked over at Ned’s squire, who was slowly becoming his good friend, “Adrian, will you help me clean the smithy up?”

“And I will assign some of our guardsmen to help you. Once again, I am grateful to have you with us, Gendry,” Ned told the young smith.

While Gendry reforged the axle and repaired other metal parts, a few of the Stark guardsmen that had carpentry skills restored the wooden upper parts of the wheelhouse. Gendry was happy to have the opportunity to swing his hammer and work with fire again and soon became absorbed in his work. Adrian became his able assistant, fetching water and tools, and helping where needed. Adrian’s father would have been aghast at the thought of his noble son doing menial labor, but Adrian found himself enjoying the practical activity, and the ability to craft something useful. It was a new experience for the boy.

By the second day of his repair work, Gendry became so absorbed that he skipped the midday meal. Jeyne Heddle came out to the forge with a plate of food and placed her hand on his shoulder to get his attention. He looked up, and noticed that she looked different than previously: She was wearing a pretty dress and her hair was nicely brushed. Jeyne said, “Come and eat, you surely have need of sustenance.” He took the plate and thanked her, leaned against the anvil, and dove into the food hungrily. Jeyne sat down on a bench and watched him intently. Finally, she addressed him again, “You know, Gendry, if you wanted it, this forge could be yours. You obviously have more skill than the farrier in town, who cannot do much more than shoe horses, and you could make much money here.”

Gendry blushed with embarrassment when he realized how keenly she was watching him. He mumbled his thanks for her praise, and that he appreciated her offer, but was bound for Winterfell as Lord Stark’s ward.

Jeyne got up and walked over to him, looking up into his eyes, and placing her hand on his arm. “I would be very pleased if you remained here, Gendry. This could be your home. We could be your family, if you liked.” She had moved closer to him as she spoke, and was almost leaning against him by the time she finished talking. Now Gendry became very nervous, and found that he was tongue-tied and blushing. He muttered “I cannot stay,” and abruptly broke the contact and turned back to his work, not daring to look at her. Jeyne’s eyes filled with tears at his rejection and rushed out of the forge.

Sansa and Jeyne Poole continued to attend meals in the dining room, but their conversations with Gendry and Adrian were awkward and guarded. When the Stark party was present, Jeyne Heddle did not leave the kitchen, and Willow directed service in her stead. While the group was waiting for the wheelhouse to be ready, Ned kept the men busy sparring so they would be prepared in case of another attack. He occasionally looked in on Gendry, and marveled at the young man’s skill. Watching him work, Lord Stark reflected, _I wonder if I am doing Gendry a disservice by preparing him to be a lord. He is obviously happy at his trade. Mayhaps he would be better off as a simple smith. BUT the concept of a nobleman with a practical craft would be innovative! Too many lords waste their time with falconry and hunting. I wager the smallfolk would have more respect for their liege lords if they actually did something useful. I will have to think on this. I wish I could discuss the idea with Lord Connington. He is a man with clear vision._

On the third day of his repair work Gendry was almost finished, and was excited with his progress. Once again he missed the midday meal. He looked up in surprise to see little Willow entering the forge with a plate of food. The Heddle sisters had plain features, and if they were not beautiful, it was not from lack of effort. Willow’s face was freshly scrubbed, her long hair was loose and nicely brushed, and she was wearing a pretty dress. Gendry could not help but notice that Willow’s hair was a dull brown, compared to Arya’s lustrous chestnut locks. He took the plate politely, thanked the girl, and nibbled at the food, studying her face. Willow had a determined expression, and said to him, “My sister spoke to you the other day about joining our family, and she returned in tears. I know that you are a bastard, Gendry, and we could offer you a home where you would be appreciated and welcomed.” She could not hide a slight grimace as she continued, “You didn’t seem to favor Jeyne, so mayhaps I am more to your liking. I will be a woman grown soon enough, and mayhaps I could convince you to stay.” Her face did not display any confidence or pleasure as she spoke, but she waited expectantly.

Gendry chuckled to himself, thinking, _I couldn’t speak to her sweet and sensitive sister, but I know I can reason with this little spitfire._ He boldly put his hands on Willow’s waist and effortlessly lifted her up to stand her on a bench so they were eye to eye. She squealed with surprise but did not fight him. “Willow, you are a brave and bold lass, and you and your sister are very generous to offer me a place in your home. I will never forget your kindness – it is a rare gift in this world. You are right, I am a bastard, and I have lived most of my life with a master, but not a family. However, my father was Lord Stark’s best friend, and he has offered me a lord’s education in his castle. I consider myself very lucky and would never refuse him. Besides, the Lady Sansa has some affection for me, and I, her. So you see, I am bound for Winterfell and the North.”

Willow nodded and sighed, looking more serious than her few years seemed capable of. “I understand, Gendry. I could never refuse such an offer myself.” Then she punched him in the arm. “Why could you not have said that to my sister? Mayhaps she would not have been so upset if you had.”

“I was awkward and nervous with your sister, Willow. I find it easier to talk to you. Jeyne may be older, but you are the tough one,” Gendry replied self-consciously.

She rolled her eyes and retorted, “Stupid man!” and she stomped away. Gendry actually felt relieved by the exchange. He returned to his work, happy to give all his attention to fashioning metal, and not trying to debate with women, where he always felt he was at a disadvantage. _Mayhaps Willow is right, mayhaps I am a stupid man!_

Finally the wheelhouse was ready, and Ned marveled at the work Gendry and the carpenters had done. All the metal parts were polished, oiled, and gleaming, and the freshly repaired and painted body looked almost new again. The wheelhouse could easily transport four people, and Sansa, Jeyne, and Septa Mordane looked very comfortable. The Stark party prepared to depart the inn. They said farewell to their new friends, and even Jeyne Heddle was composed enough to say a calm goodbye to Gendry. Sansa looked on suspiciously, curious as to what had passed between them. Lord Stark thanked the Heddle sisters for their hospitality, and their generosity in caring for the orphans, and told them that he would send a raven to his goodbrother, Edmure Tully, requesting that he keep an eye on them, as they were residents of the Riverlands. He also told them to contact Winterfell if they ever needed anything that he could provide.

The party crossed the Trident on the ferry, although it took quite a while to get all the people, horses, and the wheelhouse across, and they stopped in Lord Harroway’s Town for supplies. When they were finally ready to continue their journey north on the kingsroad, Ned observed how slowly the wheelhouse moved. He reflected with some impatience, _I’ll be old and gray by the time we reach Winterfell! I hope we have no more distractions!_ Unfortunately, he had no idea that the Lannister’s evil designs would interfere with his plans.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back to Arya’s adventures at sea in the next chapter.


	37. Traveling by Land and Sea III

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 37 Traveling by Land and by Sea III 

The ship transporting the Dornish party rounded Crackclaw Point and set the sails for the long journey south. After a few days, the child of Winter began complaining vigorously about the excessive heat, as the weather appeared to her. Lady Nym smirked and told Arya, “If you think it is too warm here, you will positively melt in Dorne. Now you know why we wear light silk robes in Dorne instead of woolen clothing.”

Nevertheless, the wolf girl of the North decided that her clothing was not adapted to the climate and removed the sleeves and the midsection from her tunic, and cut the leggings from her breeches to the top of her thighs. Approaching her ten and second nameday, Arya’s athletic legs were almost as shapely as those of a woman grown, and the sailors obviously noticed this fact as those who were off duty leaned against the rail and watched her practice her water dancing. One smirked and told her that she could walk around in her smallclothes if she was so inclined. Nym was alarmed at the amount of pale flesh that had been exposed to the sun for the first time, and slathered ointments on Arya’s skin regularly until she had acquired a good tan. Arya always fussed when Nym insisted that she needed more ointment, and the Sand Snake reflected, _Gods! I’m ready to slap this brat! I would make a terrible mother!_

Nym was also concerned about the predatory glances the sailors cast at Arya’s bare legs, so she fashioned a short skirt out of thin silk that would cover the young girl’s thighs almost to the knees, and handed it to her. “Here, put this over your breeches. It won’t impede your movement, but it will prevent you from distracting the sailors at work. If the captain notices that you are interfering with the operation of his ship, he will confine you below decks for the remainder of the voyage.”

On principle Arya hated dresses, so her eyes narrowed and she scowled, but she took the skirt and stepped into it, tightening the laces at the waist. She faced Lady Nym and replied unpleasantly, “There! Are you happy now?! Humph!” and she flounced away, swinging her little sword.

The young woman rolled her eyes and sighed, _Lady Ashara was right! She will be a terror when she flowers! I never had such problems with Cousin Sarra at that age!_

\---------------------------

Lady Nym still continued to have all the warrior women sparring frequently to keep their skills sharp. The sailors were quite aware of how dangerous they really were and rarely made any unwanted advances towards them. That was part of the reason why the Sand Snake kept her companions at their swordplay in public. 

Arya was amused by her observation that the sailors were experts with needle and thread and sewed most of their own clothing, as well as the ship’s sails. They would also repair the rents in the wild and careless girl’s garments, working as carefully as septas. _I wish I could tell Sansa about this!_ she thought.

The sailors loved music and several could play the flute and lute, as well as the tambourine. On pleasant evenings the off-duty watch would start playing songs and others would start dancing. The Dornish ladies all loved to dance, and once invited, they did not hesitate to join in the merriment. Arya even wore silk robes on the nights that they all danced. The advantage for the ladies was that dancing on deck was a group activity, all participants moving about in lines and circles, and they did not have to worry about sailors’ wayward hands groping their bodies. It was all good, clean fun.

\---------------------------

Arya was curious about something that she noticed during her emotional parting from Aegon at the dock. Besides her own unhappiness, she seemed to also sense her direwolf’s dismay. Nymeria was very fond of Aegon, and Arya was convinced that she ‘felt’ the animal’s pain at the leave-taking. She decided to test her theory. Without looking directly at the wolf, Arya held the image of Nymeria coming to her in her mind, and reached out mentally to ‘touch’ her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Nymeria’s head spin around and look at her with a puzzled expression. Then the direwolf trotted over to her and pressed the top of her head against her hand. Arya said, “Good wolf!” and thought, _Sit!_ Nymeria promptly sat down. The wolf girl became excited and wondered how much control she had. She saw a fid that a sailor had left upon a coil of rope and formed the mental image of Nymeria bringing it to her. Nymeria walked across the deck, gently picked up the tool with her teeth and brought it to her mistress. Arya took it, patted the direwolf on the head and praised her extravagantly.

The girl rushed to find her mentor, and enthusiastically described what had just happened. Lady Nym’s eyes widened and she said, “Arya, you are a warg! Do you know what that means?”

“I think so. Old Nan would use that word when she told us stories about special people who could share an animal’s skin and experiences. She also called them ‘skinchangers’. I thought that the stories were just meant to scare us, but Old Nan said that many Starks in the past were wargs, especially those that had direwolves as companions.” She studied Nymeria thoughtfully as she spoke.

“Just so,” Nym responded, “They are also known as shapechangers and beastlings, and many people hate and fear them because they are different. Some wargs are so skilled that they can bond with an eagle and soar high in the air, examining the world below. Arya, have you dreamt of being a wolf at night?”

Arya was slow to answer. “Aye, when Nymeria was lost and hungry, I dreamt of her in the woods as she tracked rabbits for food. I thought I had the dreams because I was so worried about her, but they felt so _real_!”

“Well, you are certainly a warg, and you must learn how to use and develop your powers. Do not mention this to anyone you do not trust. When we get to Dorne we will find someone who can help you.”

 _My brothers have direwolves. I wonder if they are wargs, too,_ Arya reflected, _I wish I could talk to Jon!_

\---------------------------

Meanwhile, as they traveled through the Narrow Sea, Arya continued her education concerning shipboard life. _Mayhaps Aegon and I will travel to Essos someday, and this knowledge will be useful,_ she thought.

Father had often told her, “Every person, regardless of their station, has a tale to tell. It is most important that you study your letters and sums with Maester Luwin, but you can learn much by listening to the stories of the people that you meet. Pay attention and listen closely. You may come to realize that some of the stories, and their tellers, are stupid and self-important, but others are as valuable as gold.”

Arya had a lively curiosity and took her father’s words to heart, exploring all of Winterfell and riding to the local villages with him, listening and learning about life in the North. She had also done much the same when in the Targaryen camp. Mayhaps that was why she was so popular among the smallfolk, and had made many friends everywhere she traveled.

The young sailor who had tried to steal a kiss in the crow’s nest was named Nestor. He was an apprentice seaman and one day would rise to captain a ship himself. Nestor had as many namedays as Gendry and Aegon, but try as he may, his facial hair only grew in wispy patches. Arya thought, _He will never have as fine a beard as Gendry._ Once Nestor realized that the wolf wench had a sharp mind behind the pretty face that had captured his attention, and that she was genuinely interested in everything he recounted to her, he spent much time explaining the workings of the ship.

It had started when they were on lookout duty together in the crow’s nest, as he described the different types of ships they passed, relating their origins and probable destinations and cargo carried. Arya had worked with the crew setting, or ‘trimming’, the sails on the deck by adjusting the ropes of the ‘running rigging’, and Nestor explained how arranging the relative angles of the smaller triangular foresail and the large square mainsail allowed for the most effective harnessing of the power of the wind. There was a real science to the procedure, and clever Arya grasped the concepts immediately, calculating how to make the ship travel as fast as possible. _I wager that I can cause a ship to gallop over the ocean like a horse on land,_ she chuckled to herself. Nestor explained how the shape of the hull and the size and weight of the keel of the ship were also important for determining the most efficient points of sailing.

The next time Arya stood a watch at the wheel for steering the ship, and took the helm from the captain, she made note of the direction of the prevailing wind, and started shouting instructions to the first mate for the ideal arrangement of the sails. The captain was startled, and addressed her, “Wolf wench, I believe that after only a few weeks at sea you already have the skills of a capable apprentice seaman. Ah, if you were a lad I would ask you to remain aboard.”

Arya grinned and then smirked at him. “Thank you for the praise, captain, as I am truly enjoying this voyage, but I am afraid that I have obligations that require me to become a landlubber again when we reach Dorne.”

The captain nodded, “Aye, I understand obligations, but it will be our loss when you depart.” He smiled slyly and continued, “Young Nestor will be loath to see you leave, also.”

Nestor also taught her how to predict weather from the clouds and wind, and how to navigate with the stars. One beautiful night when the light of the full moon reflected off the ocean as it rose above the horizon, they studied the night sky, and the youth dared to put his arm around her shoulder. Arya decided to allow the intimacy, and leaned into him, realizing how much she missed Aegon making the same affectionate gesture. But she murmured a warning, “Don’t get any ideas. Try anything and I will geld you as quick as a snake.”

“Even if I tell you that I think that I am in love with you and desperately want to kiss you?” he replied in a husky voice, turning his head and nuzzling his face in her soft chestnut hair.

“Ha! I am not some gullible maid who swoons when she hears the word ‘love’! Besides, I am betrothed, and will marry my intended when we meet again.”

“Ah, but he is far away, and won’t know what we do,” Nestor whispered into her ear, as his hand now rested lightly on her thigh.

Arya abruptly moved away. “But _I_ will know, and that is enough. Save your words of love and greedy hands for a more receptive lass. All I want is your friendship, Nestor.”

Crushed, the young sailor sighed, “Ah, my heart is broken. I will mourn forever.”

The wolf wench smirked, “You will mourn only until we reach a seaport, and then you will find a brothel and forget all about me. Now what were you saying about the movement of the constellations with the seasons?”

\---------------------------

One morning Arya awakened to a strange silence, and as she climbed the companionway to the deck, she realized that the wind had died. Looking over the nearest rail, she was amazed to observe that the ship was motionless and the ocean, as far as one could see, was as smooth as glass. The captain approached her and said, “Aye, girl, we are in the doldrums, and I wouldn’t expect the wind to pick up until this evening.”

The wolf girl was a strong swimmer and loved playing in the ponds at home, and now the ocean appeared to be the biggest pond that she had ever seen. Impulsively, she asked, “Captain, may I go swimming?”

The captain nodded and said, “If you can swim, the water will be perfect. The only problem would be the sea-tigers, with their mouths filled with nasty razor-sharp teeth. However, sea-tigers advertise their presence with a singular dorsal fin that sticks up out of the water. The lookout announced earlier that the water is clear down to three fathoms, and he has not seen any signs of those dangerous fish all morning.”

Arya quickly pulled her tunic over her head and stepped out of her butchered breeches, and jumped over the railing into the water below. She reckoned that swimming in her smallclothes and undershirt would not be too immodest as long as she kept her body below the surface. She shrieked with delight when she first hit the water, and splashed and swam around for a while, having a wonderful time. Arya called up to the deck, “Captain, why is no one else enjoying this wonderful water? The temperature is perfect!”

The captain smiled down at her, “Wolf wench, although sailors spend most of their lives at sea, not all know how to swim. Some even decline learning how.”

Arya was amazed that so many sailors and cabin boys didn’t know how to swim. She volunteered to teach anyone who would join her in the water. Sarra was also an experienced swimmer, as she had spent her early years at Dorne’s famous Water Gardens, and offered to help. Inspired by the enthusiastic girls, several men and boys responded favorably. A few ingenious sailors fashioned inflated pig bladders and threw them overboard to be used as floats. The crowd in the water became so large and noisy that the captain sent a second lookout into the crow’s nest, because of all the distraction below.

While she was playing in the water, suddenly Arya felt strong hands on her waist, and found herself being spun round and around. Just before she became dizzy, she reached out with her hand and smacked something solid. She heard a voice say, “Ouch!” and found herself staring at Nestor, who was grinning at her but rubbing his eye. “You hurt me!” he told her.

“Serves you right, idiot!” Arya retorted, and directed a huge splash at his face with cupped hands. He splashed her back, and as she turned her head, he dove below the surface and grabbed her ankle, dragging her down. She tugged herself loose and swung a fist at him. In response, Nestor seized her with both hands and pulled her into his body, his hands firmly on her back. They were entangled underwater and she could not break free. He used the opportunity to plant a kiss on her mouth, brazenly running his tongue over her lips.

Arya was furious with his impertinence and brought her knee up sharply right between his legs. Nestor gurgled, “Oooff!”, released the girl, and shot to the surface, streaming bubbles out of his mouth.

She followed him up, and pushing hair out of her eyes, scowled at him, “How dare you!”

Nestor was hunched over, trying to hold his abused privates and tread water at the same time. For all his pain, he was grinning, “At least I got that kiss I have wanted so badly! Has anyone told you that you are particularly attractive when you are angry? Your eyes flash like lightning!”

At that, the wolf girl had to laugh, her anger dissipating, “Aye, I have been told that before. You are not the first to comment on my eyes.”

“Mayhaps that is why boys tease you with the intent to make you lose your temper. Am I correct in that assumption?”

Arya could not help but smile, “Mayhaps you are right,” thinking back on her quarrels with Aegon, and reflecting on how much she missed the prince. She decided to stay with her memories and swam away from the young sailor, who was recovering his self-control.

\---------------------------

A shout from the crow’s next announced the arrival of a pod of sea-jesters, man-sized animals named for their playful nature and the mouth fixed in a permanent grin that appeared to be constantly making a jape. They looked similar to sea-tigers, but were intelligent and friendly, and liked to frolic in the bow wave of a fast-moving ship. The sailors told Arya that sea-jesters were not fish, but birthed live babes and suckled their young like land animals. As they swam among the humans in the water, curious as to all the activity, Arya had an idea. _I wonder if I can warg into a sea-jester?_ she thought. Focusing on the nearest one, she formed an image of herself riding on its back while grasping the dorsal fin. The animal turned and looked at her, and immediately swam up and prodded her with its long snout. The girl climbed aboard and immediately the sea-jester started swimming rapidly along the surface away from the crowd. Arya was delighted and enjoying her ride until a distant shout from the crow’s nest caught her attention. She realized the animal had carried her quite far from the ship. She formed the image of the ship in her mind and the sea-jester turned around and swam back, stopping besides the rope ladder that had been lowered over the hull to assist the swimmers for climbing back to the deck. Arya dismounted, put a hand on its jaw, and said “Thank you,” directing the thought of her face grinning widely at the creature, which bobbed its head up and down twice and swam gracefully away to rejoin the pod. The captain, Lady Nym, Nestor, and a few others were looking down from the deck in amazement.

Nym called down, “Arya, was that your doing?”

“Aye, I requested a ride from the sea-jester, and it was agreeable.”

The captain’s jaw dropped, “I have never seen anything like that! The wolf wench has power over the beasts! She is surely a special girl!” He looked at her with admiration, as did Nestor and the others. Arya was very pleased with herself and thought, _I can’t wait to write Aegon about my adventures! Mayhaps I can send a raven to Jon, too!_

\---------------------------

Eventually the swimmers grew tired and started returning to the ship, many as happy as children after splashing around for hours. Sarra climbed up the rope ladder and crawled over the rail. As she stood on the deck, water streaming off of her body, the observing crew members let out an involuntary collective gasp. Sarra had fashioned a silk robe into a swimming outfit, and now the delicate soaking wet material was clinging to her like a second skin. Sarra was a smaller version of her cousin, Lady Nym, and her proportions were just as flawless. The shape of her perfectly round breasts was revealed by the thin cloth, and it was obvious that her teats were hard and pointed. Looking down, Sarra realized that even the outline of her mound, covered in soft curls, was visible. One sailor turned to his mate and said, “By the Gods, it’s the Maiden herself in the flesh! I’m not going to sleep well tonight with that vision in my mind.”

“Aye,” replied the second sailor, “All the blood has rushed to my cock, and my brain has shut down. I’m glad that I am not on duty.”

The Dornish girl became aware of her rapt audience, and blushing furiously, rushed down the companionway to her cabin to dry herself and change into less revealing clothing. _I like when men admire me, but that was far too much attention for comfort!_ the maiden thought.

Arya had her head over the rail and had witnessed what had just passed, so she climbed over and quickly pulled on her tunic, breeches, and skirt, as her smallclothes were also totally soaked and revealing. When she looked up, she saw that the men were still gazing at the companionway through which Sarra had passed, and no one had noticed her. The wolf girl didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted. _Idiot!_ she thought, _you don’t really want those coarse sailors lusting for you, do you?_ Upon reflection, she had to admit that she was not sure if she did or not.

\---------------------------

That evening the wind returned and the ship began making way southward on the Narrow Sea again. They steered clear of the island of Dragonstone, Stannis Baratheon’s seat, awarded to him by his brother Robert after the Rebellion. As they passed, Arya thought, _That castle rightly belongs to Aegon. When he becomes king, we should demand that Stannis vacate and return to Storm’s End._ The ship sailed past the Gullet, which was the entrance to Blackwater Bay and the route to King’s Landing, and instead, upon seeing the great fire of the watchtower on Sharp Point at the end of the peninsula of Massey’s Hook, sailed to the small port of Stonedance to unload cargo and restock provisions. The sailors were eager to land, and those who were the first to be granted shore leave raced for the street of brothels. Having been trapped for a month aboard a ship with a passenger list filled with incredibly desirable, but off-limits women, the men were eager to replace their calloused palms with the real thing. Arya overheard Nestor trading japes with a shipmate, saying that he was most interested in finding a thin, young, dark-haired whore. “I have a lot of frustration to work out,” he grinned, and the girl turned away in embarrassment.

As the sailors ran down the quay after disembarking, the captain turned to Lady Nym and smirked, “My lady, your party has certainly made an impression on my crew. I hope that they clear their heads so they can concentrate on work when they return.”

Nym returned his smirk, “Oh, it’s not their heads that they are concerned with, captain, but I agree. I hope they return satisfied and don’t cast their hungry eyes at us, but I doubt that they will be comfortable for long. We have had a pleasant voyage so far, and I regret that we can be such a distraction to your crew, but that is not something we can control. I am sure that when we arrive at Sunspear you will be relieved.”

“That may be true, my lady,” replied the captain, “but I must say that it has been interesting traveling with you, especially that little she wolf. You have been closed-mouth about her identity, but it is obvious that she is a member of a noble family and has had a good education. She is as clever as the best apprentice seaman I have fostered, and has been a quick study with any subject presented to her. She also seems comfortable taking command. If she were a lad, I could see her acquiring a captaincy by the time she attains ten and eight namedays. My apprentice, Nestor, is on that path, and has pointed out how capable she is.”

“Aye, captain, that is astute observation,” Nym responded, “Her other mentors have suggested that if she were male, she could be groomed as a grand maester, or even the Hand of the king of Westeros.”

The captain’s eyes became very wide. “That is amazing! Now I am intrigued, and for the rest of our voyage, I am going to see how much seamanship she can absorb. It will be enjoyable having such a talented student.”

The Sand Snake laughed, “Don’t be surprised if she surpasses your expectations, captain. I understand that even as a young child she bested her siblings and companions at letters, sums, history, and cyvasse. And that was before her sweet features proved to be a distraction to the boys. The wolf girl has been my apprentice for almost six moons, and she has often been a real challenge for me.”

“Ah, then my apprentice, Nestor, will really be in trouble,” the captain chuckled, “I know he is infatuated with Arya, even though she is too young for him, and he will certainly be distracted during shared lessons. That may be a good thing, though, as he needs to learn to focus his mind if he is to captain a ship when he is of age.”

Nym smiled, “Well then, I think that the remainder of our voyage home will prove to be very interesting. Good day to you, captain, it is the sparring hour for my ladies, and we like to keep our skills sharp.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next, back to Ned Stark and his journey home.


	38. Traveling by Land and Sea IV

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 38 Traveling by Land and Sea IV

By land:

Previously:

The Stark party crossed the Trident on the ferry, although it took quite a while to get all the people, horses, and the wheelhouse across, and they stopped in Lord Harroway’s Town for supplies. When they were finally ready to continue their journey north on the kingsroad, Ned observed how slowly the wheelhouse moved. He reflected with some impatience, I’ll be old and gray by the time we reach Winterfell! I hope we have no more distractions! Unfortunately, he had no idea that the Lannister’s evil designs would interfere with his plans.

\---------------------------------------

The group left the Trident behind them, traveling north on the kingsroad through the Riverlands. Ned thought, _I can’t wait until we approach the Neck, then at least I will feel like we are nearing home._ He observed the quiet countryside surrounding them. _To the west lies Riverrun, my lady wife’s home and the seat of her family. On the other side of those formidable mountains to the east lies the Vale of Arryn, the residence of her dear widowed sister. I don’t have the time to pay a leisurely visit to either my good-brother or good-sister; I just want to return to Winterfell as soon as possible._ He gazed forlornly at the creaking, lumbering wheelhouse, and cursed silently. _That ponderous contraption is really going to slow us down! Mayhaps I can convince Sansa to mount a horse soon. I’m sure that she is as eager as I am to get home._

They traveled for a week before Ned noticed that the mountain range to the northeast was gradually getting smaller, and beyond it he could see lowlands coming into view. _At last we are drawing near the Neck! Every day brings us closer to the North! I wish I could move us faster!_

Eventually the landscape began to level out in all directions and Ned was convinced that he could see a coastline to the northeast and wetlands to the north. He became excited and thought, _That is the entrance to the Neck! We have made it!_ But just then he heard the ominous sound of a large number of horses. Turning to the west, he saw a host comprised of as many as two hundred mounted soldiers bearing down on him. A shout went up from Jory, and the Stark guardsmen prepared for the attack. Ned realized that he was seriously outnumbered, but at least there were no knights in plate armor. He scanned the horde for identification and was startled to see banners emblazoned with the image of two towers connected by a bridge. _The Twins! The Freys are bannermen of the Tully’s! Why would they be attacking us?_ he wondered. There was no time to reflect on the mystery, as he shouted directions to his men, making sure that the non-combatants were guarded.

A score of his guardsmen were skilled archers, and Ned directed them to send up a flurry of arrows to mayhaps keep some of the host at bay, while the rest engaged the attackers with swords. The Starks fought furiously, but with the odds being more than two to one, the battle was going badly for them. As casualties mounted, Ned saw Quent and Varly, guardsmen he had known all his life, fall lifelessly from their horses. There was a grim expression on his face as he frantically swung Ice, trying to kill as many of the enemy as he could, thinking, _If we lose, what will happen to Sansa?!_ He could not even imagine the horror, and concentrated on staying alive.

Just at the point when Ned thought they might have to surrender, he noticed that Frey soldiers at the rear were falling forward and dying from arrows in their backs. _That is strange, he thought, how can that be?_ The meaning became clear when saw a number of small archers, the size of children, clad in green and brown leathers that blended in with the forested background, become more visible as the foes diminished in number.

Ned’s heart gave a leap, _It must be the crannogmen of Greywater Watch!_ he realized, and shouted, “Courage, men! We have allies! Fight for Winterfell!” The cry, “Winterfell!” went up among the surviving Northmen, and they fought more fiercely now that they had hope. Eventually, the remaining Frey soldiers realized that they were trapped between two deadly forces, and the leaders threw down their swords and surrendered, calling for mercy.

Once Ned was satisfied that the front was secured and Jory was in command, he rushed over to the wheelhouse to check on the non-combatants. He was greeted by a shocking sight – a dazed and tired Gendry, his sword dripping blood, surrounded by a pile of almost dismembered bodies of Frey soldiers. Gendry did not have much battle experience, but his size, strength, and determination to protect his lady, proved to be a major advantage. Squire Adrian, also with limited battle experience, acquitted himself well, more so in a defensive posture by Gendry’s side, than in attack mode. Ned solemnly observed the carnage around Gendry. He clasped the young man by his shoulder and told him, “Your father was as fierce a fighter as you have proved to be. The words of your House are ‘Ours is the fury’, and you have certainly shown that characteristic today. I am proud to have you as my ward.” Gendry smiled back and simply said that he had an obligation to keep the ladies safe.

Upon reflection now that the battle was over, the young smith was grateful that Lady Arya had insisted that the young men work at swordplay frequently at Harrenhal, saying that they were at war and needed to be ready to fight. He chuckled at the memory of her constant criticism of Prince Aegon, revealing her desire to turn the peaceful young man into a formidable fighter. She, herself, sparred until she was soaked in sweat, filthy, and panting, and if any of the boys complained that they were exhausted, she quoted a phrase that Bokko had learned from a Master of the Braavosi Water Dance, _You must practice a thousand times that which you may use in battle once, but that one time may save your life._ Gendry thought, _The wolf girl was so right about practice, if I hadn’t been diligent, there is no way I could have been successful today._ He chuckled under his breath, thinking of the fiery wolf girl, _Lady Arya would make a fine general, and I for one, would follow her eagerly into battle._

The captured Frey soldiers were bound with ropes, and their weapons were collected. Ned looked over the assemblage, and queried, “Who is the leader among you?” since they all seemed to be dressed in the same light chain mail armor. The soldiers all returned sullen glances, but no one spoke. Ned grabbed the closest prisoner and putting a knife to his throat, said forcefully, “I have killed too many men today, and one more won’t matter to the gods. Expose your cowardly commander or you die right now!” The soldier pointed his chin in the direction of another man, and Ned realized that the man so indicated had a weak chin, thin hair, and dull eyes - the Frey family characteristics. Ned released the soldier and seized the Frey by the throat. “Who are you?” he snarled. With hate in his voice, the man said, “I am Black Walder, great-grandson to Lord Walder Frey.”

“You are a Tully bannerman. Lord Walder has proven in the past to be a reluctant ally to Riverrun, but why would you dare attack a party under the Direwolf banner, knowing that you would be harming Lord Hoster’s goodson and grand-daughter?”

“We Freys bear little love for the Tully’s, who treat my family with scorn. Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the King, told Lord Walder, that if we captured or killed you and your party, he would support our bid for independence from the Riverlands, and support our forays for more land and vassals,” Black Walder replied.

Ned threw him to the ground. “You are a turncoat and a traitor. Returning you for ransom is too good a fate for you. I must think on this. You may remain hiding among your common soldiers for now, and will be treated as one.” He turned to a guardsmen, “Show them that the Starks have mercy, and bring them water and dry bread.” He stalked away thinking, _I must inform Lord Hoster of Walder Frey’s defection, he must know of this enemy in his lands. I wasn’t wrong when I characterized Tywin Lannister as a snake!_

Returning to the front, Ned saw a welcome sight. As his troops greeted their crannogmen allies, he spied his old friend and fellow soldier, Howland Reed, the Lord of Greywater Watch. House Reed was bound to Winterfell, and his lands comprised the most southern region of the North. Lord Howland, Ned, and Robert Baratheon had fought side by side during Robert’s Rebellion, and were longtime companions. They embraced warmly and both commented that it had been too long since they had seen each other. To an outside observer, the reunion would have seemed comical, as Lord Howland was the size of a child, crannogmen being of small stature.

“I am beholden to you for coming to our rescue at a moment of dire need, Howland. If you had not arrived when you did, we surely would have all been killed by the Freys,” Ned told his bannerman.

“It was no accident,” Lord Reed replied, “Your scouts arrived with warnings some time ago, and we have been watching the Neck for suspicious activity. The Freys had been preparing a host outside their walls for some time and I did not know why. When Black Walder and his army rode out, we followed them, suspecting evil intent. It turns out we were right, and I am glad that we were able to help you overcome the enemy.”

Gendry and Sansa approached and Ned hugged his daughter, kissed her on the top of her head, and told her that he was glad that she was safe, and that she had Gendry to thank again for that circumstance. Ned proudly introduced Sansa to Lord Howland, observing that the girl, who had not attained ten and three namedays yet, was taller than the crannogman. Lord Reed looked at her carefully and commented that she was the spitting image of her beautiful mother. Sansa smiled and curtseyed at the compliment.

Then Ned introduced Gendry, stating that the large lad had recently become his ward. Howland’s eyes went very wide and he said in a quiet voice, “Ned, the youth appears to exactly resemble Robert Baratheon at the same age. I assume that this is not a coincidence?”

“You are correct. Gendry is Robert’s oldest bastard, and the Lannisters had him marked for death. We spirited him out of King’s Landing, where he had been apprenticed to an armorer. Gendry is a skilled smith and possesses Robert’s best qualities, as well as having intelligence and a sober demeanor. He is a good lad, and I look forward to having him join my sons at Winterfell.”

Lord Howland nodded and said, “I was always displeased with Robert’s crass behavior, and I was sorry to hear about his death, but I am pleased that he had one son he would have been proud of. I am pleased to meet you, Gendry,” and he reached up to shake the huge boy’s hand. Then he looked curiously at Ned again and asked, “But where is your other daughter? I believe her name is Arya? I was looking forward to meeting her.”

Ned replied ruefully, “My willful younger daughter has attached herself to the Targaryen camp and remained with Golden Company, stating that she intends to become a warrior woman under the tutelage of a Dornish Sand Snake, and mayhaps the bride of Prince Aegon. I was given no say in the matter.”

The crannogman smiled, “I am not surprised. Word has even reached Greywater Watch about the young wolf princess who resembles Lyanna Stark in appearance and behavior. As you know, your sister Lyanna was a good friend to me, and I was curious about this girl.”

“Well, you may meet her someday. Arya is known for doing the unexpected, and I imagine that she will appear in the North in the future.”

“I hope so. She sounds like a very interesting person. Now back to the present, Ned. What do you plan to do now?”

Ned bit his lip, replying with a worried expression, “I have more prisoners to deal with, and I must get word to Hoster Tully of Walder Frey’s traitorous behavior. Now I also must expect that there may be more ambushes awaiting on our path north. Who else could Tywin Lannister have turned against us? I have much to think on right now.”

“While you ruminate on your choices, let me offer you the hospitality of Greywater Watch. Your people need some relief from all the turmoil you have encountered on the road.”

Lord Stark agreed, and announced to the rest of the party that they were to follow the crannogmen into the swamp for very unusual experience – a friendly welcome at a floating castle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Back to Arya on the high seas


	39. Traveling by Land and Sea V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have decided to miraculously add a year to Arya’s age from the beginning of this story. Aging up the wolf girl will make her behavior and experiences more compatible. At this point in the story, Arya is about eleven and a half, Sansa, Jeyne, and Adrian are around thirteen, and Gendry, Aegon, and Sarra are all fifteen.
> 
> WARNING: Lady Nym wrote this chapter and there are several ‘ _very_ mature’ passages.

Chapter 39 Traveling by Land and Sea V

Previously:

“Aye, captain, that is astute observation,” Nym responded, “Her other mentors have suggested that if she were male, she could be groomed as a grand maester, or even the Hand of the king of Westeros.”

The captain’s eyes became very wide. “That is amazing! Now I am intrigued, and for the rest of our voyage, I am going to see how much seamanship she can absorb. It will be enjoyable having such a talented student.”

By sea.

As he proposed, Captain Salladhar began to regard Arya as an apprentice seaman and included her in Nestor’s lessons. He showed her the navigation charts, and Arya was quick to learn how to plot courses. She liked how the sailing charts were even more detailed than land maps, and learned how to navigate around obstacles, as the Narrow Sea was filled with small rocky islands, some even submerged, but still dangerous to a ship’s hull. Arya also learned that sailing was different by day, night, and in fog. She learned more about employing the angle of the approaching wind for the most efficient speed over the water, called the points of sailing. The wolf girl thought, _Nymeria would not be happy, but I can easily see enjoying a life at sea. And I would miss Aegon, also._

One evening Arya and Nestor were sharing lookout duty again, and watching the first quarter moon setting in the starry sky. Nestor put his arm around her shoulder again and gently pulled her closer. Lady Nym had encouraged the girl to experiment with her intimacy with him, citing the value of the experience, if she felt that she was capable of maintaining control of the situation. Arya pressed into his side and murmured, “You may kiss me if you still want to.” Nestor stared at her and even in the dim light she could see his eyes glinting with desire. He leaned close and gently stroked her cheek with his hand and pressed his lips against hers. He shifted his position, embraced her, and started to fondle her braid. Arya realized that she missed Aegon doing the same thing, and it had been far too long since a boy had touched her lovingly, so she responded to his attention and caressed his downy cheek. Like his captain, Nestor was Lyseni, and the inhabitants of that island were known for their white-blonde hair and fair skin. It wasn’t difficult for Arya to look at him and think of Aegon.

Suddenly Nestor broke the contact and leaned back, looking at her imploringly, and asked, “Arya, may I loosen your hair? You always wear a braid, and I want to see your hair loose around your shoulders.” She nodded, curious about his request, and removed the leather cord binding her braid. He began opening the weaves and spreading out her long chestnut locks. Nestor brought some of her hair over her shoulders and arranged it over her chest. He gazed fondly at her now and told her with admiration in his voice, “You are so beautiful. You _must_ be a princess. No ordinary girl could be so lovely.” Arya looks startled but said nothing, thinking of how members of Golden Company had called her the ‘wolf princess’. He continued, “Yes, you must be a princess. You are beautiful, smart and well-educated, and seem to have a natural talent for giving orders. You _must_ be royalty!”

Arya was uncomfortable with the direction of his conversation, and asked, “Have you finished kissing me? If you are, I’m going to leave now.”

“Not a chance,” Nestor replied with a grin, leaning in to kiss her again, moving his hand over her bare stomach and around to stroke her back. She responded by embracing him and getting her hands entangled in his hair, as he slid his tongue into her mouth, kissing her deeply. Arya moaned, their tongues danced, and both were very caught up in the emotion of the moment. The kisses became sloppy and noisy as they also pressed lips to each other’s necks and throats and shoulders. His hands moved to the front of her tunic, and gently fondled the small mounds of her barely developed breasts briefly before moving his hands to her hips. She pulled his face closer, her nails digging into his hair.

Suddenly Arya realized that one of his hands had now reached under her skirt and was stroking the top of her thigh, right at the edge of her trimmed breeches, and she was getting that funny feeling in her belly and her smallclothes were becoming damp. She broke the contact, and said, “Nestor, we need to stop. Kissing is nice, but this is too much.” They stared at each other while panting, their eyes shining, neither moving for a moment. Impulsively, Arya leaned over again and gave him a quick kiss while squeezing his aroused cock through his breeches. Then she moved away and swiftly climbed down the rigging to the deck before he could react. Nestor was stunned and remained motionless for a while. When the watch changed, his replacement had to shake his shoulder to return him to his senses, and he went to his berth in a daze, dreaming of Arya’s tongue in his mouth, her hands in his hair, and of course, her hand on his cock.

When Arya quietly entered her cabin, not wanting to disturb her sleeping companions, Nymeria snuffled her loudly and then snorted. The direwolf was aware of Nestor’s smell on the girl, and if a wolf could express disapproval, she was doing so. Arya thought, _Nymeria certainly is Aegon’s guardian._

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The next day during lessons in the captain’s cabin, whenever the youths made eye contact, they blushed intensely and looked away. Captain Salladhar noticed that they were distracted, saw that both had puffy lips, and that Arya’s fair-skinned cheeks were a bit red. The captain asked accusingly, “You two have been kissing, haven’t you?!” Both blushed in response, and he scolded them about inappropriate behavior. Then he gave each of them a difficult navigation problem to solve, forcing them to focus their minds. He was amused to see that Nestor struggled a bit to concentrate, but Arya effortlessly directed her attention to the academic work. He reflected, _He won’t be happy, but mayhaps the lad’s senses will return after the wolf wench has disembarked. She can certainly be a distraction to a romantic young man._ Later, Captain Salladhar warned Nestor to keep in mind that Arya was still young, and a passenger at that, and he better not dishonor her.

After Arya left for sparring practice, the captain and Nestor shared a pot of tea and the boy confessed that he believed the girl was a princess. Captain Salladhar did not scoff at him, but instead said, “Lady Nymeria has been secretive about Arya’s identity, but I think it is easy to deduce. She has the fair skin and dark hair of a Northerner, and she has a direwolf companion. Now which Westerosi Great House is known for direwolves?”

Nestor thought for a moment and replied with surprise, “Why, the Starks of Winterfell!”

The captain nodded, “Yes, and remember that in the port taverns we heard rumors about the Targaryen Prince and his ‘wolf princess’ from the North.”

The young sailor’s face expressed a faraway gaze, “So I really did kiss a princess! I am so lucky!” He wondered if he would be favored with more ‘royal’ attention.

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That evening, Arya was not on duty for the evening watch, and when she climbed into bed with Lady Nym for secrets sharing time, she related how she kissed Nestor, and how he wanted to loosen her hair. Nym responded, “Some men like to do that, and I remember that long ago the first thing I heard Aegon say about you was that he liked your hair.”

Arya looked reflective and replied, “I remember that too, and I scolded him for talking about my hair.”

Lady Nym continued, “Some men even like to brush their lady’s hair before lovemaking. When you meet up with Aegon again, you could ask if he would like to loosen your hair when you are alone.” She grinned and said, “Hmm, it would definitely make your private time more…… intimate.” The Sand Snake fingered Arya’s long locks thoughtfully and said, “Mayhaps I will let my hair grow out again. You have reminded me that long hair does have its advantages.”

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The home port of Captain Salladhar’s ship, _The Red Cloud_ , was Lys, and she frequently plied the waters of the southern Narrow Sea. As the ship approached the islands of the Stepstones, the captain plotted a course to Tyrosh, one of the Free Cities of Essos, to deliver cargo before the final tack of their journey to Dorne.

Lady Nym thought that this would be a good opportunity for Arya to explore a foreign land, and also to visit a House of Pleasure, since she had expressed a desire to do just that. Nym had Arya and Sarra dress nicely for the excursion into the city. Arya noticed that the streets were swept clean and the buildings were large and attractive. On the Street of Sex, their appearance turned the heads of several men looking for entertainment, and one man, obviously a wealthy merchant, approached, offering a large bag of gold coins, inquiring if the three lovely ladies would accompany him to his home. Nym shook her head, saying that he had mistaken them for working girls.

She took the girls to the House of Seven Lamps, an impressive three-story, brightly painted building. Inside, the salon was opulent, with plush settees and bright oil lamps, and an ornate curving staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs. Arya saw a large number of beautiful and buxom young women relaxing on the settees, some chatting with well-dressed older men. Their fancy gowns were designed to reveal much cleavage, and Arya wondered, _Why are men so obsessed with breasts?!_ She was surprised to see a woman that had an uncanny likeness to Queen Cersei, and another smaller, curvaceous young girl with silver-blonde hair that matched the description she had heard of Daenerys Targaryen. She pointed this out to Lady Nym, who smirked and told her, “Many men fancy that they would like to fuck a queen and I imagine that those two women have become quite popular.”

The procuress approached and introduced herself, welcoming the obviously highborn young ladies, saying, “Call me Merry.” She asked Lady Nym, “What is your pleasure?”

Lady Nym smiled, “Oh, do you have something that might interest us?”

Merry looked across the room and called to a boy, “Caligulos, will you please come here?” A youth approached, appearing to have about ten and six namedays. The lad had plain features and a soft pudgy body. He was not muscular at all. Merry told him, “Boy, show the ladies your talent.” Caligulos opened his mouth and touched the tip of his tongue to his nose, then to his chin, and finally wagged it in front of them. Arya thought, _That is not a tongue, that is a snake!_ Merry said, “The lad can give all three of you enjoyment. What say you?”

The Sand Snake looked at the other two thoughtfully. Sarra was nodding her head vigorously and Arya looked puzzled. Nym smiled at the younger girl, “You will find this educational.” She gave Merry a small bag of gold coins and the madam led them up the staircase to a beautifully decorated room. The floor and walls were covered with colorful, soft carpets and hangings. Even the ceiling was covered in decorated tiles and mirrors. In the center of the room was a large four poster featherbed covered in fine silk sheets and surrounded by gauzy curtains. Three comfortable divans were scattered around the room. Nym loosened her silk robes and lay down at the edge of the bed.

Sarra and Arya were sitting on a divan watching, and Sarra embraced Arya tightly, saying, “Ooh, Arya, I can’t wait! This is going to be so much fun!” Arya thought, _It might be fun if I knew what he does with that tongue!_

Caligulos knelt in front of Nym, placing his hands under her silks, caressing her stomach and then moving to her legs, gently stroking the insides of her thighs.

Nym sighed and spread her legs a little more as he loosened and slid her silk smallclothes off of her body. The boy replaced his hands with his mouth, and started kissing her thighs. Nym moaned and clutched the sides of the bed with her hands, her eyes squeezed shut. Caligulos’ head disappeared under her robes as he placed his mouth over her sex and went to work. She grabbed his head and pulled him closer as she started thrusting her hips in his face while shouting loudly, “Oh gods! Oh gods!” This behavior continued for several minutes until Nym finally shrieked, “Oooooh!” in a high-pitched voice, releasing his head and slamming her arms back on the bed, and stretching her legs out as far they would go while extending her toes. She opened her eyes and looked at the girls, her face flushed and shining, glistening with beads of sweat, exclaiming, “That was incredible!” She looked down at the boy, still on his knees between her legs, and said, “Thank you, Caligulos, you are very skilled!” Nym kissed him lightly on the mouth, got up and stretched out her limbs, adjusting her robes and sighing contentedly.

Sarra jumped off the divan, shouting loudly, “My turn, my turn!” and moving towards the bed. As she approached the bed, she was pulling off her robes and stepping out of her smallclothes until she was completely bare by the time she reached it. The boy eyed her appreciatively, gently cupped her breasts, squeezing the teats until she moaned and pressed her thighs together, then he moved his hands to stroke her lower belly and mound. Sarra’s head fell back, her eyes closed, and her legs moved apart. Caligulos moved in, first stroking her inner thighs with his hands, and then, as with Nym, going to work with his mouth on her thighs and sex. Sarra moaned and her hands clutched the boy’s head, and her legs came up to wrap around his shoulders and neck as he pleasured her. She pressed her center into his face, thrusting with a circular motion. Finally, with one last push against the boy’s face, her legs limply fell aside and she released his head, letting out a long, sweet, contented sigh. She raised her head and looked at Lady Nym, saying, “Oh, my! No disrespect, cousin, but his mouth is more skillful than yours!”

Nym smiled, “I cannot disagree with you. The lad is certainly a treasure!”

Sarra kissed Caligulos on top of his head, got up from the bed, and started collecting her clothing. Then she looked at Arya mischievously, “Your turn, Arya! Come over here and loosen your robes.”

Arya was not quite sure what to do, so she followed Sarra’s advice, lying down at the edge of the bed and loosening her robes. She made eye contact with the boy, who was still on his knees, and thought, _I have never had a boy look at me while his head was between my thighs._ Caligulos quietly asked her, “My lady, is this your first time?”

The wolf girl nodded and he said, “Just relax, close your eyes, and let me pleasure you. I promise you will enjoy the experience.”

She did as told and felt him warming her up as he had done with Nym and Sarra. As he stroked and kissed her inner thighs and sex first with his hands and then with his mouth, she started feeling that intense yearning sensation in her lower belly that she had experienced while kissing Gendry, Aegon, and even Nestor. However, this time the sensation just kept getting stronger and stronger, and she did not break the contact as she had done previously. Her head started swinging from side to side, and she began to moan continually. Suddenly she felt Caligulos’ tongue slide into her folds, and the sweet aching feeling became even more intense, especially when the boy’s tongue slid even deeper inside her and began to explore her interior, while sucking on her slit and making wet, loud, and rude noises. Involuntarily, she clutched his head, and shouted, “Oh, fuck!” and pressed herself firmly against his face, thinking, _I hope I am not suffocating him! That would be terrible if I killed a boy with my crotch!_

His hands had been gripping her hips, and now she felt his left hand cup her buttock and his right caress her mound. Arya was becoming delirious with pleasure and thought that she might lose consciousness, when suddenly she felt as if she was melting into a puddle, and experienced a long drawn out sense of relief, like falling from a great height into a soft feather bed. As the two other young women had done earlier, she let out a long contented sigh. Her limbs were weak and she could barely move them, and her toes tingled – the tingling moving up her legs and settling into her groin.

She slowly opened her eyes and saw Nym and Sarra looking down on her and grinning. Nym asked, “Well, what do you think?”

The girl replied, “I thought I was dying at first, and then everything changed!”

Lady Nym touched her sweaty face, “And now you are reborn. Are you satisfied?”

“Most definitely! It was wonderful! I never imagined anything like that!”

She started to get up from the bed, realizing that she felt as exhausted as though she had run for a mile, and looked at Caligulos. He was smiling and his face was soaking wet with a sticky fluid. She realized that the fluid had been hers and she blushed with embarrassment. Ignoring her red face, the boy told her, “I am glad you enjoyed that, my lady.” She was still too stunned to tell him not to call her ‘my lady’.

Nym gave Caligulos a gold dragon and thanked him for his efforts. The boy bowed, and said that he will leave them alone to freshen up, nodding towards a rack of soft towels and a table with basins of warm water with rose petals floating on the surface. Before leaving, he turned to Arya and kissed her hand, saying, “It has been my pleasure to give such a lovely lady her first ‘Lord’s Kiss’.

After washing up, Lady Nym called for wine for herself and Sarra, and cider for Arya, and sat down on a divan, cooling herself with a feathered fan. Arya and Sarra were sharing an adjacent divan, giggling every time they made eye contact. Sarra ventured, her eyes sparkling, “Arya, watch this!” and suddenly reached over and pressed her hand firmly on Arya’s mound. Immediately, shock waves went through the girl’s body, and she felt another sense of excitement and release almost as intense as when Caligulos pleasured her. Sarra giggled, “See, you are still sensitive! The feeling will stay for a while. Imagine riding a horse right now!”

Arya’s eyes widened at the thought. “Seven hells!” she responded, “Imagine galloping! I think I would bounce off the horse!” Both girls laughed heartily and Sarra squeezed Arya’s hands.

Nym was leaning back with her eyes closed, clutching her goblet of wine, and in a faraway voice announced, “I imagined that it was Jon Connington on his knees, staring at me with a lustful expression like the one he gave me at the dock, before eagerly diving into my center and licking me until I screamed with pleasure.”

Sarra contributed, “I had imagined it was Gendry between my legs, staring at me worshipfully with his bright blue eyes, his soft beard tickling my thighs, his strong hands clutching my hips, mumbling into my sex that he couldn’t resist me and wanted to eat me up.”

Arya said disapprovingly, “Sarra, you shouldn’t be thinking of Gendry. He belongs to my sister now.”

Sarra replied with a small sigh, “I can’t help it. He is the one who got away, and I still wonder what it would have been like to lie with him.”

Arya thought, _I shouldn’t scold Sarra; I had those same feelings about Gendry, too._

Turning her head and opening her eyes to mere slits, Nym asked her, “Who were you thinking of, Arya?”

“No one,” she answered, “All I could think about was that someone’s tongue was inside me and it was doing marvelous things!”

Nym smirked, “You must remember this experience, and show Aegon how he can pleasure you.”

Arya smiled at the thought of Aegon between her thighs, kissing her private parts, telling her how much he loved her, and the thought was enough to awaken that funny feeling deep in her belly. She grinned at Nym and responded, “Aye, that will be fun!”

Returning to the ship, the girls continued to giggle and hold each other, as they still were feeling the glow of pleasure, and enjoyed the contact.

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Back at sea, _The Red Cloud_ negotiated the Stepstones and eventually reached Sunspear. Nym completed her payment for the passage to Captain Salladhar and thanked him for the pleasant voyage. The captain replied that he had found their presence most entertaining and wished her good fortune. The Dornish party prepared to depart, first saying goodbye to new friends, and then leading their horses onshore. The sand steeds were happy to find solid earth under their hooves again and began to whinny and prance. Nymeria ran down the gangplank and loped around, also happy to be on land, filling her nostrils with familiar earthy smells, and squatting to urinate on a nearby bush.

Nestor was loath to part with Arya, as he had become very fond of her. He offered her a gift, a piece of scrimshaw that he had carved himself – a detailed image of _The Red Cloud_ under full sail engraved into a whale’s tooth, colored with black ink. Arya thanked him and muttering, ‘Seven hells’, pressed closely against him, publicly giving him a deep tongue kiss, her hands gripping his hair. The lad responded by stroking her braid and lower back, and neither cared that the entire crew was watching. Hoots came from the amused sailors, and one lewd voice suggested that they go below decks for a quickie before departure. She had not thought to give him a gift, but she spontaneously untied the rough leather cord that bound her braid and asked, “Would you like this to remember me by?”

Nestor smiled, “Arya, I would be delighted to accept that as a gift. I will never forget you!” He took the cord and gave her a final embrace, kissing the top of her head.

Finally walking down the gangplank, dressed now in Dornish silk robes, Arya felt the heat and intensity of the bright southern sunlight, noted the different styles of architecture and unusual vegetation, and thought, _I wonder what adventures Dorne has in store for me._ She was ready for more new experiences.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In modern times, Nestor’s role would be that of a ‘midshipman’, a ship’s officer in training, and not an ordinary seaman.


	40. Greywater Watch

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 40 Greywater Watch

Previously: Traveling on the kingsroad through the Riverlands, the Stark party is attacked by a large force of Frey soldiers from the Twins. Howland Reed and his crannogmen come to their rescue.

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Lord Stark, his companions and prisoners, made their way to the borders of Lord Reed’s realm, the forbidding swamps of the Neck. Lord Reed directed the Stark guardsmen, now numbering about threescore, to a small hidden meadow within the forest where they could camp and hobble their horses, letting them graze. Jory would take charge, and his men would guard the Lannister prisoners while Ned and his closest companions visited the floating castle. There were too many Frey prisoners to guard, so Ned made the difficult decision of allowing them to return to the Twins, swearing on the lives of their captured Lord and captains, not to return and harass the Northerners. Except for small knives, all their weapons were confiscated and they were released, while their leaders remained trussed up in ropes.

The travelers gingerly stepped into small flat-bottomed boats rowed by the crannogmen. At first they felt rather unstable, but soon they became comfortable. The boats maneuvered upstream on the eastern branch of the Green Fork, through odiferous and forbidding bogs and fens; a landscape that was treacherous to a traveler on foot or horseback. Soon the stream became narrower and separated into many small, sluggish creeks. As they entered the swamp tall trees blocked the sunlight, and even at midday the light was dim and their vision was hindered. The swamp was composed of innumerable small hummocks, each comprised of a few trees, bushes, and ferns, and the earth was covered with moss and grass. Vines hung from the tree limbs, further limiting their view. The slow-moving creeks meandered around the hummocks, and Ned realized almost immediately that he had lost his sense of direction, and was dependent on the guidance of his hosts.

Ned noticed the eerie calm under the trees, the only sound coming from the splash of oars and the multitude of frogs that instantly became quiet as the boats approached them. Frequently as the boats rounded a bend, the travelers were startled by the rasping call of a great blue heron taking flight, a sound like opening a heavy door set with old, rusty iron hinges. The heron would soar majestically over the boats, impressively displaying its nine foot wingspan. Sporadically they would hear the plop of a snake falling from a tree limb into the water, which made Ned shudder, afraid the next one will fall into his boat. The rowing crannogman nearest him smiled and said, “Don’t worry, milord. We always watch out for the falling snakes.” Then the silence returned, only to be disturbed occasionally by the almost soundless flap of wings of a large and curious eagle owl gliding just overhead to see what had interrupted his sleep.

Lord Stark observed the tea-colored water as they glided peacefully through the swamp, idly noting the large number of floating logs, until one log opened a reptilian eye and stared back at him. Ned flinched involuntarily, and the ‘log’ raised its snout with a pair of nostrils about a foot from the eye and languidly twitched a long armored tail, elevating its scaly back higher out of the water and moving away. He realized that he had been within inches of a twelve foot long lizard-lion, and then he saw that the water was crowded with similar beasts. As he looked at the creek banks, he saw basking lizard-lions, their long smiling mouths crammed with pointed ivory teeth, sliding slowly into the water as the boats passed by. Ned was a brave soldier, but he felt abject terror while facing these monsters.

Lord Reed told him, “Old King Log won’t bother you as long as you stay in the boat and don’t attempt to swim across the swamp. You see, even though we lack the formidable stone walls of a typical castle, Greywater Watch is well protected.”

They began to pass crannogs, floating wooden platforms that were large enough to support small cottages with thatch roofs and curious faces in the windows. Eventually they reach a huge crannog and Ned saw that there was a large wooden structure in the middle. It appears to be quite old and completely covered in moss and vines. As they stepped out of the boats, the visitors did not feel like they were stepping on land, but the ground gave way as though it was another vessel. Ned looked at Howland with curiosity, and his host smiled, “Welcome to Greywater Watch! As you surmise, the castle is fixed to a floating island, and moves continually through our swamp. Its location is always a mystery to our enemies. Even ravens cannot find us.”

“Aye, that is why all my letters to you had to be sent by messengers,” Ned replied thoughtfully, pondering the fantastic concept of a floating castle.

Lord Howland grinned and suggested, “It is believed that the ancient crannogmen were close with the children of the forest, mayhaps we share their magic.” They entered the castle and Ned noted that the chambers were small by necessity, but appeared well-furnished and cozy, with small glowing braziers to keep out the damp.

Ned was introduced to Lord Howland’s wife, Lady Jyana, who welcomed her husband’s old friend, “I have prepared a small feast for the weary travelers.”

Gendry was amazed by the floating castle, and wondered, _What will this feast will be? I did not see any farm animals._

They entered the castle’s main hall and saw a table spread with many food items. Besides familiar deep-fried fish filets and a salad of fresh wild greens, there were pan-fried frog legs, roasted wild fowl, and succulent fried nuggets from lizard-lion tails. The fried fish was plentiful, and servants also brought warm filets to the Stark soldiers on guard duty.

As they took their seats around the table, Ned introduced his companions, Lady Sansa, Septa Mordane, Steward Poole and his daughter Jeyne, and Ned’s new wards – Gendry and Squire Adrian. Lady Jyana presented her children – first, Lady Meera, a slim maiden of ten and five namedays, with long brown hair arranged in a single braid, and dressed in boyish dark green leathers with a dagger in her belt, and then her younger brother, Jojen, a solemn lad of ten and two namedays, with penetrating green eyes. After the introductions, Ned and Gendry gave a second glance at Lady Meera and rolled their eyes at each other, mouthing, _Arya!_

The visitors ate hungrily, and eventually became more relaxed and sated, leaning back in their chairs with satisfied smiles. Lord Howland returned to the topic he had broached upon meeting the Stark party following the attack. He looked pointedly at Sansa and asked, “My lady, do you know much about your Aunt Lyanna?”

“No, my lord, Mother and Father seldom mention her name,” the girl replied while lowering her eyes and casting a sideways glance at her father, who was attempting to avoid eye contact with anyone. Sansa did not know that Lyanna, Rhaegar, Brandon, and Ned’s activities in the South during the war were sore subjects between her parents, and rarely discussed, although she had some idea that her brother Jon was somehow involved.

“I thought not, Lady Sansa, and I want you to know that I hold your aunt in high regard. You may be surprised to learn that at that fateful tourney at Harrenhal, she acted as my champion, and exacted vengeance on several men who had harmed me. Lyanna Stark was skilled on horseback, and could fight with a sword and a lance. She secretly entered the joust and defeated three blooded knights. Her success as a mystery knight attracted the attention of Prince Rhaegar, and thus the drama began.”

Looking at her father, who was still refusing to acknowledge the conversation, Sansa said, “I did not know that, my lord.”

“Few people do, my lady, but I bring this up because I think you should know that your aunt was too dangerous, spirited, and independent a woman to be kidnapped and raped by anyone. The truth is that she made her own decision and chose the dragon over the stag. If Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen had lived, she would have been a powerful consort to the popular prince, and I believe they would have accomplished great feats.” Lord Reed paused and turned his attention to Ned, “I know this conversation troubles you, old friend, but have I related any falsehoods?”

Ned finally returned his friend’s gaze, and sighed, “No, you have not. My sister was a remarkable woman, and I deeply miss her to this day.”

But as Sansa reflected on the incredible story, she thought, _So it is true what the grown-ups say about Arya. She is just like Aunt Lyanna! My aunt was destined to be queen of Westeros, and my sister is following in her footsteps!_

Lady Jyana changed the direction of the conversation and the mood by commenting on the lively young people travelling with Ned, and he replied that the youths will join four more lads at Winterfell. She hesitated and told him, “We have no maester, and our children have few friends. Lord Stark, I am loath to part with them, but I implore you to take Meera and Jojen to Winterfell as your wards for their education. They need to spend time with highborn children close to their ages, also.

Ned laughed to himself, _What difference will two more make?_ He nodded and said, “I am honored that you would trust me with your precious offspring. They will have plenty of companions at Winterfell.” Then he rolled his eyes and continued with a sigh, “Lady Catelyn and I will have a castle full of teenagers and that will truly challenge our sanity. I don’t know if there will be time to run the kingdom!”

Later, Ned and Howland had the luxury of relaxing after dinner, quietly sharing a flagon of wine. Lady Jyana excused herself to see to the accommodations for her guests, taking Poole and Mordane with her. The young people went off to explore the castle with Meera and Jojen as their guides. Ned heard them chatting familiarly, becoming friends already. Finally Howland broke the silence, asking, “Well, old friend, what is next for you?”

Ned frowned and wrinkled his forehead thoughtfully, “Well, my first step will be to go to Moat Cailin to see if my orders were carried out. I sent a raven to my maester at Winterfell with instructions for Lords Tallhart and Glover to fortify and man the old keep and provide the North with protection from an invasion. If the castle has a maester and ravens, I will contact Lord Manderly at White Harbor. I intend to ask Lord Wyman to hold my Frey captives until I decide what to do with them. I must also inform Hoster Tully of the traitorous behavior of his bannerman, Walder Frey.”

He paused, and gave Lord Howland a serious look. “I did not expect to be attacked by the Freys, and now I wonder if Tywin Lannister had turned any of _my_ bannermen. Mayhaps there is a Northern lord that desires to depose me and rule the North with Lannister support. Ambition is a natural quality to most men, and some can be seduced by the lust for power. Except for my closest bannermen, including you, the Mormonts, the Umbers, and the Manderlys, I do not know whom to trust at this moment. Roose Bolton, for example, has always had a hungry look, and once implied that he would like to expand the territory ruled from the Dreadfort.”

Lord Howland took a sip of wine and stretched out his legs, “Your guardsmen are few in number. I will send some my soldiers with you for protection, at least as far as Moat Cailin, where hopefully you will find reinforcements, and face no more danger on the last leg of your trip home.”

Ned smiled at the thought. “Home. It has been too long since I have been in Winterfell, and I am eager to end this journey.” Then he frowned, “My work will only begin when I return home. I must call for a council with my bannerman, and we must discuss their disposition toward Prince Aegon. Are they willing to bend the knee, or will they demand independence? I find myself in the awkward position of supporting the Targaryen prince, both because I think he is a good lad and will be a good ruler for Westeros, and also for the inconceivable likelihood that my wild and independent younger daughter intends to share her life with him.”

The crannogman replied, “Well, my lord, whatever you decide, you have my support. Reeds have trusted Starks to be our leaders for many generations.”

They clasped forearms, and Ned said, “I am grateful for your friendship, Howland, and will always treasure it. Thank you for saving my people and for your hospitality. Since you have mentioned my home, I am eager to travel. We will depart on the morrow and now it is time for sleep.”

Lord Howland nodded, and they rose to find the rest of their families.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Meera relates the story of the crannogman at Harrenhal in Chapter 24 ‘Bran’ of “A Storm of Swords” ASoIaF Volume 3.
> 
> Next: Arya’s adventures in Dorne.


	41. Welcome to Dorne

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, thank you for your patience. To my embarrassment, it has been a month since I have updated this story, and the characters in my head have been howling with impatience. Unfortunately, as usual, real life got in the way, and finding time to move the words from my imagination to the computer was very difficult. As the holidays approach I will have more free time, and writing is at the top of my agenda. I hope that I can entertain you with the continuing adventures of Arya, Aegon, and Ned Stark.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 41 Welcome to Dorne 

 

Previously: Finally walking down the gangplank, dressed now in Dornish silk robes, Arya felt the heat and intensity of the bright southern sunlight, noted the different styles of architecture and unusual vegetation, and thought, _I wonder what adventures Dorne has in store for me._ She was ready for more new experiences.

\----------------------------------------

Two thousand leagues from her familiar home in the far north, Arya was well aware of how different Dorne was from Winterfell. Although it was not yet midday, the sun was high in the sky and her eyes were squinting and trying to adjust to the intense glare that she had never experienced before. The temperature was so warm that she could actually _feel_ the heat in the air, as though it was another layer of clothing. None of the residents she passed wore wool or leather. Both genders were dressed in the light cotton or silk robes that Lady Nym and Sarra preferred. She observed that for the most part, the Dornish were a handsome people, with bronze skin and glossy dark hair. The apprentice warrior woman was delighted to see that females displaying weapons were not uncommon among the populace. _I will like it here,_ she thought, _although I feel as if I am melting into a puddle from that sun beating down on me._

The party approached Sunspear, the castle of Nymeria’s uncle, Prince Doran Martell. Lady Nym bade farewell to the two Dornish ladies who had accompanied her to the Crownlands. She was sorry to see them leave, but she was eager for the arrival of her closest friends and bedmates, the Fowler twins. Jeyne and Jennelyn had sent word that they were traveling from Skyreach, their home in the mountains of Dorne.

Nym, Sarra, and Arya entered the castle, and Sarra had a happy homecoming with her father, Ser Manfred Martell, cousin of Prince Doran, and castellan at Sunspear. Ser Manfred was a dour man, as he had a surfeit of responsibilities managing the Prince’s household, but his face lit up like the sun when he saw his daughter. He was a widower, and Lady Nym had served as Sarra’s mother as well as mentor for most of her life. Sarra traveled extensively with Nym, and did not reunite with her father often. 

Ser Manfred pulled Sarra into a tight hug and then held her at arm’s length to look at her. “My, how beautiful you have become, daughter, and you are almost a woman grown!” Sarra introduced Arya, who curtseyed demurely, hiding a grin. He exclaimed, “Another beauty!” Turning to Lady Nym, he offered, “I expect that all the young squires and lordlings who meet these lovely young ladies are captivated by their charms. I assume that you have explained to them that boys want one thing from them and you have taught them to protect their virtue. It would be a tragedy if a young man professed love and then wickedly took advantage of their sweet innocence.” Arya and Sarra rolled their eyes at each other, and suppressed giggles behind their hands.

Doing her best to maintain a straight face, Nym replied, “I have been very informative about dealings with the opposite sex, and both girls are well aware of male characteristics.” Later, when the three young women were alone in their chambers, they burst out laughing, with Sarra and Arya rolling on the floor. Lady Nym, breathing heavily from laughing so hard, said, “If your father only knew the truth, he would have a heart attack! Ladies, it is best not to tell men anything that might upset them. They are happier imaging what they believe, rather than hearing reality.”

\----------------------------------------

Later, Arya met Prince Doran Martell, the ruler of the Kingdom of Dorne. The prince had more than fifty namedays but he appeared even older. Unfortunately, he suffered from severe gout and was confined to a chair with small wheels, as his joints were so painful that walking was impossible. The Captain of his Guard, Areo Hotah, a huge and strong soldier, always hovered nearby, pushed the chair, and carried the Prince Doran when necessary.

Prince Doran closely observed Arya and commented that she certainly resembled her beautiful Aunt Lyanna, who he had met many years ago. The wolf girl was getting used to older people remarking on her likeness to Lyanna Stark and had stopped being bothered by the comparison. Lady Nym had said that there would be times when the similarity would be useful for her. The prince added, “I am pleased that you and your father have expressed support for my nephew Aegon. The end of the rift between Starks and Targaryens will help heal Westeros when the Lannisters are removed from power.”

Arya realized that he was alluding to her future marriage to Aegon, and reflecting on her betrothal made her uneasy, but she replied politely that she felt very close to Prince Aegon and hoped that he was unharmed as Golden Company was probably fighting the Lannisters at that very moment. The prince offered her his maester and his ravens for Arya to communicate with Aegon and her family, and Arya expressed gratitude for his kindness, already formulating messages in her head.

Prince Doran’s tone became lighter, and he said, “You must accompany me to the Water Gardens. The pools and gardens there are the most beautiful in all of Dorne, and possibly all of Westeros! There are many young people for you to meet, and I understand that you are fond of water sports.” He grinned and added, “And I know that your Northern constitution must find our climate unbearably warm, so you will find cooling off in the fountains to be delightful.”

Arya thanked him for the invitation and replied that she looked forward to the short journey to the Water Gardens. Then the prince introduced her to Princess Arianne, his oldest child and heir to the throne. The princess was a tall and beautiful woman, much like her cousin Nymeria. From her conversation with Princess Arianne, Arya discovered that she was also very intelligent. Arya was surprised to learn that in Dorne, the eldest child, regardless of gender, was always named successor. She was excited to think that Arianne would eventually be the ruler. In the rest of Westeros, a female first born would be set aside and the oldest male sibling would inherit. Arya was also pleased to learn that the lord treasurer was a woman, Lady Alyse Ladybright. _Dorne is so different than the rest of Westeros, a woman’s brains are appreciated here,_ she thought, _I should have been born in Dorne!_

Before leaving Sunspear, Arya met Prince Oberyn Martell, Prince Doran’s younger brother, and Lady Nym’s father. Although Prince Oberyn had almost fifty namedays, his body was lithe, muscular, and strong, and he moved with an air of grace and danger. _No wonder he is called ‘The Red Viper’,_ Arya thought. Prince Oberyn was very handsome, clean-shaven, and his hair was dark and glossy. With his long hair tied back, the same striking widow’s peak that Arya had observed on Lady Nym’s forehead was revealed.

But most unnerving, the Prince’s strongest features were his sharp and penetrating eyes, which were now fixed on Arya. His gaze was so intense that Arya had the uneasy feeling that he was looking right through her clothes and skin, right to her soul. But she refused to be intimidated and boldly met his scrutiny, staring back defiantly. Oberyn cupped her cheek with a strong hand as gently as a lover, and speaking in a seductive voice, not unlike his daughter’s, murmured, “Ah, I can see why my nephew is so taken with a Stark. His father, my goodbrother Rhaegar, also had the same weakness. The North does seem to breed beautiful and strong women, similar to those of Dorne. And my kinfolks’ attraction is not solely based on a pretty face. I see the wolf in you. I see the ferocity, independence, and fearlessness. The she wolf chooses her mate, and that man should consider himself very fortunate.”

While Arya was considering his disquieting words, Prince Oberyn abruptly changed the conversation. “My daughter tells me that you are a student of blades. Would you like to learn the spear? Your graceful Braavosi Water Dance technique may be ideal for wielding that weapon.”

Arya nodded. She was intrigued by the idea, even if Oberyn’s attention made her feel uncomfortable.

“Good,” he continued, “I have several students, and will contact you when we meet again for practice.”

\-----------------------------------

Since arriving at Sunspear, Lady Nym had become too busy to supervise Arya as closely as she had in the Crownlands and on the _Red Cloud_. Instead, she turned the responsibility of Arya’s social education over to her handmaiden Sarra, and Nym adopted the role of an eccentric, but doting auntie.

Arya thought of Sarra as the kind of big sister she wished Sansa could have been. Like Sansa, Sarra was very pretty and feminine, and was skillful with make-up and fashion. But she also loved to ride, preferring a Western saddle like Arya, and not a side-saddle. Sarra was not as interested in sword fighting as Arya was, but she was adequate with throwing knives and a shortsword, as an apprentice Sand Snake should be. She had a sense of adventure, and appreciated Arya’s tomboy nature. Whereas Sansa always seem demure and subservient when interacting with males, Sarra, like her cousin Nym, boldly approached members of the opposite sex as an equal, and was not obsequious.

With Lady Nym so preoccupied, Sarra served as Arya’s bedmate, and after dark, taught Arya the techniques she would need to keep Aegon entertained after they were married. Having witnessed how unsettled Gendry had been in Sarra’s presence, Arya was aware of the older girl’s skill in the art of love, and Sarra was pleased to share her knowledge with her charge. Sarra also demonstrated how Aegon could give _her_ more pleasure, and Arya was eager to put her suggestions into action.

\------------------------------

Lady Nym, Sarra, and Arya accompanied Prince Doran and his household to the palace at the Water Gardens, which was less than a day’s journey from Sunspear. The journey did take longer than necessary for sand steed riders, as the prince was compelled to travel in a wheelhouse. He was unable to mount a horse, and even in the wagon, every bump was excruciating painful for him. The ladies rode beside him and distracted him from his discomfort with stories from their travels. Prince Doran was immensely interested and awed with their adventures, and seemed to be enthralled with Arya. He found it amazing that someone so young could have had such an interesting life, and was very impressed with her.

Arya fell in love with the Water Gardens immediately. Whereas the heat and glaring sunlight in Sunspear had been oppressive, this castle felt well-shaded and cooler. There were many pools and fountains to play in, and Arya loved swimming. She found that after bathing, she actually felt refreshed and comfortable in her silk robes.

Nymeria the direwolf liked the Water Gardens, also. Her usual habit was to quickly get soaking wet and then lie under a bush, remaining cool and away from the hot sun. Nymeria amused herself by hunting and dining on the numerous coneys that inhabited the gardens and nearby woods.

The Water Gardens were unusually noisy, as they were populated by two score children of both genders, ranging in ages from toddlers with harried nursemaids to young teenagers like Sarra. The youngsters shrieked and laughed as they played in the water, but the clamor was pleasant to the ears, if a bit loud. The children were all wards of Prince Doran, and there were as many smallfolk as young lords and ladies. The prince loved the Water Gardens and often said that watching the carefree children as they giggled and frolicked distracted his mind from the pain wracking his suffering joints.

Sarra was Arya’s guide, and led her around the park-like setting, describing its layout. Due to the exceedingly warm climate, all the children were naked, regardless of age. Sarra had directed Arya to undress before they went to the pools, and the older girl was quite comfortable with her nakedness, having spent much of her childhood at the Water Gardens.

Playing with her brothers at the pools in the Godswood of Winterfell, Arya had not been concerned with nudity. But now at the Water Gardens, she was self-conscious about her body because she was beginning to show the signs of incipient maturity. Her breasts were small but obviously present, and the fine hairs on her mound were becoming darker. Lady Nym had remarked that she would most likely flower by her ten and second nameday, which was not far off. 

As the two girls entered the largest and most populated courtyard, Arya observed a group of boys lounging around the side of the pool, chatting and kicking the water with their lower legs. The boys ranged from Arya’s to Sarra’s age, and they were eying Sarra with appreciation. Suddenly Arya realized that they are checking her out, too. She averted her eyes and pretended not to notice them, but she could not help but overhear their conversation, thinking, _Boys have no idea how loud and obvious they are._

“Who’s the new girl?” a brash voice exclaimed.

“Her name is Arya, a Northern lady, and she just arrived from the Crownlands with Sarra,” someone answered.

“She’s cute! I’d like to meet her!” a younger voice added.

“Ha! You mean that you want to kiss her!” an older voice teased.

“Maybe I do!” the younger voice responded boldly.

“Well, Sarra says that she is apprenticed to Lady Nymeria, and is skilled with blades, so you better be careful!” the second voice warned.

“Aye, if you piss her off, she will geld you!” another japed.

“She should work on those tan lines. Ugh! That pale white skin is so gross!” another boy criticized scornfully.

“Aye, she better be careful or she will burn her little boobies!” the japing voice said, and general laughter was heard.

Soon afterwards Lady Nym arrived, and taking one look at the Northern girl, grabbed her and covered her in ointment, and Arya didn’t even complain.

\--------------------------------

Sarra and Arya moved around to the shallow end of the pool to wade into the water, and Arya casually looked back at the boys. She could not help but notice that the packages of the older boys were all different. Their members varied by length and thickness, and the bollocks sacs were dissimilar also. Sarra noticed the direction of Arya’s gaze, and she grabbed her arm, and with sparkling eyes and a giggle, whispered in her ear, “And they all feel different inside you, too!” Arya was very curious about this statement.

\-----------------------------------

Arya loved water sports and upon entering the pool, quickly joined a game of tag. She was a good diver and a swift swimmer and excelled at the game. Before she knew it, she had made a few new friends and was really enjoying herself. Her other favorite game was water ‘jousting’, where a smaller child balanced on the shoulders of a larger one, and the pair approached another couple in water at chest level depth to the ‘horse’, and attempted to push them over. Arya was strong for her size, and aggressive, so she and Sarra dominated most of the other female ‘knights’.

Eventually, a few boys approached, offering to be their ‘mounts’ for mixed-gender ‘jousting’. Sarra accepted the invitation of a lad around her age who turned out to be the only remaining member of her old crew from her previous sojourn at the Water Gardens. His name was Perros Blackmont, and he was soon to leave and become a squire.

A boy slightly older and taller than Arya approached and introduced himself as Arron, and offered to be her ‘mount’. The boy had a pleasant face and a ready smile. He was a little chunky, but not too muscular, and his facial hair was light-colored and sparse. Arya did not let on that she recognized his voice as the one that said that she was cute, but climbed up on his shoulders. When he put his hands on her thighs, she tried to ignore the funny feeling she had in her center, but concentrated on challenging a similarly sized ‘knight’. Sarra and Arya played for several hours with the other children until they were all exhausted, and then Sarra reluctantly revealed to the boys that she and Arya were scheduled to meet Prince Doran’s maester, promising to catch up with them later.

\-------------------------------

Prince Doran’s maester at the Water Gardens, Maester Caleotte, was also the children’s tutor. Lady Nym conveyed Haldon’s instructions for Arya’s and Sarra’s continuing education, with details as to their major interests. Arya had found Maester Luwin at Winterfell capable, but it soon became obvious that Maester Caleotte was smarter. He tested Arya’s knowledge of mathematics, and was amazed at her skill for one so young. Arya challenged him to teach her something new. He questioned her knowledge and learned that she had not studied geometry and trigonometry yet. The master introduced her to the theories of circles and triangles, and after a week of lessons, Arya exclaimed, “This stuff has practical applications!” The maester laughed and then started to teach Arya how to use the formulas for determining the path of projectiles launched by catapults and trebuchets. Arya became excited and thought, _I must send a raven to Aegon! This will be useful for the siege of King’s Landing!_

Maester Caleotte had another student as gifted with sums as Arya. His name was Arron Qorgyle, and Arya realized with surprise that the boy had been her jousting ‘mount’ in the pool. The youths blushed slightly when the maester introduced them, as they both remembered his comment upon first seeing the wolf girl. Arron was his father’s second son and a clever lad. He was soon going to study at the Citadel and would eventually earn his maester’s chains, as his older brother Gulian was going to become the Lord of Sandstone. He had a talent for trigonometry and together he and Arya designed and tested scale model catapults. Arya spent much time with him and found him quite different compared to other boys she had known. She had never befriended a boy who had no interest in swordplay and sparring, and yet they had much in common. He was much more like her brother Bran than anyone else. Arron was Arya’s smartest cyvasse opponent, and their battles were mentally exhausting. Afterwards they would go swimming to refresh both body and mind. _Arron is not really very athletic, but I like him a lot anyway,_ she thought.

\------------------------------------

One morning after jousting in the pool, Arya, Arron, Perros, and Sarra dried themselves off, got dressed, and wandered into the garden. Sarra took them to a cool, shady grove of orange trees, where they threw their towels down on the soft grass and picked some ripe blood oranges, the signature fruit of Dorne. Sarra peeled an orange, and with a grin offered to feed Perros. Arron copied her, and with a smile, held out a segment in front of Arya’s face. Arya recalled Nym saying, “Be spontaneous, be surprising. Men really like that.” She opened her mouth and when he inserted the moist fruit, she bit down gently on his thumb. Arron looked surprised, but didn’t pull his hand away. She crushed the segment with her back teeth, and with the red juice running down her chin, she sucked on his finger as she stared at him with wide grey eyes.

This was too much for Arron, and he moved his thumb to the edge of her mouth and moved his lips towards hers, closing his eyes. Arya pressed her lips against his, and when he went to lick the juice on her chin, she slid her tongue into his mouth, deepening the kiss. Arron was slow and gentle, and Arya found that she liked kissing him. They embraced, and after a few sensual minutes of the game of dancing tongues, he asked in a husky voice, “Arya, may I touch your body?” She loosens her robes, and his hands moved to cup and squeeze her breasts and teats. Since they had started growing larger, her breasts had become more sensitive, and Arya found that she enjoyed having Arron fondle them. He stopped kissing her and whispered into her ear, his hot breath giving her a thrill, “I love your breasts. They are the perfect size for filling my hands. I hope they stay this way.”

Arya replied sharply, “Don’t say that! I want my breasts to grow as large as Sarra’s, or even Lady Nym’s. That way they will distract men and work to my advantage!”

Arron shook his head and laughed, “You amaze me! You are always looking for an edge!”

The wolf girl also laughed, “Of course! I am a warrior woman and I always want to be in control!” To prove her point, she pulled him closer and initiated a deep, demanding kiss, massaging his hair with one hand, stroking his back with the other, and pressing her chest forcefully into his hands.

The boy closed his eyes and moaned, returning her affection by pinching her teats and tangling their tongues. They were so absorbed in each other that when Sarra tapped on Arya’s shoulder, she eventually had to strike her harder to get her attention.

Arya broke her lip suction on Arron’s mouth with a loud pop, and looked up at Sarra, blinking and drooling, obviously totally unfocused on the other girl.

Sarra grinned, “I am sorry to interrupt such a romantic interlude, Arya, but we have plans to meet Lady Nym for lunch, and we should not be late.” Perros was behind Sarra, with his hands around her waist, nuzzling the back of her neck. Sarra’s eyes were sparkling, her lips were puffy and red, and her robes were loosely tied. It was obvious that the older youths had been engaged in the same activity as Arya and Arron.

Arya nodded and leaned back from Arron, making to get up from the bunched-up towel on the grass. Arron looked dazed and incoherent, and recovered his voice enough to call after her as the two girls sashayed from the grove, “That was wonderful! I’ll see you later!”

Before the girls were out of earshot, they heard Perros chuckle, “Well, did you have a good time? I know that I did! Those girls are amazing!” Arron choked out, “I think I am in love!"

Sarra giggled and clutched Arya’s arm, “Well, you certainly made an impression on _him!_ Lady Nym will be impressed that you put another notch in your belt!”

\----------------------------

Lady Nym always liked to hear how the girls were adjusting to life at the Winter Gardens, and when Arya and Sarra told her about their new beaus, she smiled and japed, “Well, they better not get overly fond of both of you, for Arron will be going to Oldtown, and Perros will soon be following a knight.” Nym’s eyes twinkled as she sighed, “You will probably break their hearts, poor lads! Add them to your lists of conquests.”

Then the Sand Snake grew serious and started outlining her plans for their continued training with blades and sand steeds. Arya would continue her swordplay and knife work, and she would also start learning the spear from Prince Oberyn. Her schedule would be complicated as she would practice with both her Braavosi rapier and a Westerosi short sword. Nym suggested that at some point she would learn to fight with a short sword in each hand. Sarra would stick to knife work, specializing in throwing from a moving steed, which was the usual Dornish warrior women fighting style. Nym also intended for Sarra to take dancing lessons to improve her footwork and perfect her balance.

As their lunch was ending and the younger girls were off for their lessons with the maester, Lady Nym said, “Enjoy yourselves while we remain at the Water Gardens, because eventually we will travel north and join my sister Obara for the siege of King’s Landing. On the positive side, Arya, you will meet up with Aegon again.”

Arya arrived at the maester’s solar and nodded a greeting to Arron. She realized that the boy was staring at the curve of her breasts pressed against her thin silk robes. He was well aware of how her teats tented the material and could not look away. She immediately thought of how her body had responded to his touch, and she blushed intensely. Arron responded by blushing also, recalling how he had fondled the lovely girl that morning. Maester Caleotte observed their embarrassment, and japed, “I’ll wager that you two have probably been studying biology outside of the classroom.” They both turned even redder and avoided eye contact. The maester warned, “Arron, I advise you not to get too attached to our wolf girl. You are destined to leave for Oldtown soon, and you won’t have pretty girls as classmates at the Citadel.” Arron sighed, and Arya reached over and squeezed his forearm to show her support. The boy smiled at her and felt a bit better. He knew that he was becoming too fond of Arya and would regret leaving her. “Well, let’s get to work,” Maester Caleotte continued, “if both of you are capable of focusing on academics and not each other.” The children nodded and tried to clear their minds. They were proud of being good students and wanted to prove to the maester that they were in control of their minds.

 _I’ll miss Arron,_ Arya thought, _but studying with him makes me eager to share lessons with Aegon when we meet again._ She was mentally preparing herself for the future journey to King’s Landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you without an ancient English dictionary, a 'coney' is a rabbit. And yes, that is where Coney Island got its name.
> 
> The next time we look in on Arya, she will be a little older and will have added the spear to her arsenal of weapons. Her warrior woman training will have progressed with Lady Nym and Prince Oberyn. She will be preparing to travel to the war zone with Lady Nym, but will have to wrap up a few romantic dalliances before leaving Dorne.
> 
> Prince Aegon and his allies are immersed in a war, and I need to describe the action in the center of Westeros as some time, too.
> 
> But it is most important right now to get back to Ned and his journey north. Lord Stark is as eager as I am for his party to arrive in Winterfell, and I have some entertaining reading for you concerning their experiences. I hope to have a chapter added very soon.


	42. Homecoming

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 42 Homecoming

Previously: Ned said, “I am grateful for your friendship, Howland, and will always treasure it. Thank you for saving my people and for your hospitality. Since you have mentioned my home, I am eager to travel. We will depart on the morrow and now it is time for sleep.”

Lord Howland Reed nodded, and they rose to find the rest of their families.

\---------------------------------------

After breaking their fast the next morning, Lord Howland took Ned aside and said, “I recalled your sister Lyanna last night because I did treasure her friendship, and I was almost as heartbroken as you were when she died in childbirth at the Tower of Joy. She deserved a much better fate. But that leaves me with a serious question: What has become of her babe, Jon?”

Ned sighed and began to explain, “ You know that I have raised him as if he was my own son, even though my lady wife has always resented his presence, and has never given me peace about my perceived moral failing. For years I have suffered from the general belief that I fathered a bastard, but I have endured the misconception for the lad’s safety.” It was obvious that the subject was painful, and he stopped to sigh again.

Lord Reed nodded for him to continue.

“When I agreed to travel to King’s Landing with King Robert as his Hand, Jon did not want to remain in Winterfell under the unwelcome glare of Lady Catelyn and announced that he would go to the Wall and take the Black. He rode north with my brother Benjen while we rode south. My younger daughter Arya loves him dearly, and their parting was painful to witness.”

Now Howland looked concerned, “But Jon cannot take the Black! He is the heir to Rhaegar Targaryen and has as much a claim to the Iron Throne as Prince Aegon! Surely you do not mean for him to become a Black Brother?!”

Lord Stark was troubled, “No, I do not want him to say his vows, but the Lannisters have agents at the Wall and if I reveal Jon’s true identity, it will likely mark him for a quick death. Besides, I know Jon and expect that he would refuse to accept his royal parentage. He believes himself to be a loyal Stark. When I arrive in Winterfell I will send a message to Benjen asking him to find some pretense of delaying Jon’s oath taking. My hope is that I can find some way to protect Jon until his real identity can be revealed and he can claim his birthright.”

Lord Reed nodded sagely, “The prophecy says that ‘The dragon shall have three heads’, and I have a strong feeling that Jon is involved.”

\---------------------------------------

Ned was soon ready to continue the northern journey, and Lord Reed sent along a troop of his bowmen to help protect the small Stark party in case another lord had been tempted by the Lannisters to attack them. The crannogmen had no horses, but the Stark party had a sufficient number of spare steeds to carry their allies.

He set out with two more youngsters in tow, Jojen and Meera Reed. As the pair were inexperienced riders, they shared a docile mount, with Squire Adrian trotting nearby, smiling and instructing them in a friendly fashion. Meera was a quick study, and soon mastered the art of handling the reins. Sansa and Jeyne were not sure how to deal with Meera. She was older than them and had flowered several namedays earlier, but was not very ladylike with her leather armor and weapons. Meera was friendly and inquisitive about Winterfell, so the three girls eventually fell into amiable conversation as they traveled. Jojen was quiet and introspective, and added little to the conversation.

After a few days of riding through the wetlands of the Neck and camping in the wild, the party arrived at Moat Cailin, and Lord Stark was pleased to see that his bannermen, Lords Tallhart and Glover, had received his message and occupied the ruins with soldiers, protecting the North from a possible invasion. Ned was also delighted to learn that a maester was present. He made haste to send a raven to Winterfell, announcing their imminent return. A raven sent to Riverrun describing the attack by the Freys, and Lord Tully was asked to decide the fate of his rogue bannermen. Lastly, a raven was sent to Lord Manderly, announcing that Lord Stark was sending the well-guarded Frey captives to White Harbor, where they were to be imprisoned until Lord Tully called for them. The Starks were still traveling with the captive outlaws, who would be escorted to the Wall when the party reached Winterfell.

Lords Tallhart and Glover were full of questions about the Stark party’s encounters on the kingsroad, and more importantly, the changing politics of Westeros. Their most uncomfortable questions concerned Prince Aegon: Would the North join him in fighting the Lannisters, and would they be expected to kneel to another Targaryen king? Ned avoided answering directly; simply stating that he would soon call for a gathering of the Northern lords to discuss the disposition of their kingdom.

Beyond Moat Cailin, the landscape changed to the low, rolling hills of the Barrowlands. Several more uneventful weeks of traveling on the kingsroad followed, as the weather grew colder, and snow fell occasionally. Adrian and Gendry, raised in the south, became noticeably uncomfortable, and Sansa and Jeyne laughed when they shivered, but eventually found warm clothing for the two lads.

At last they reached the southern fork of the White Knife, where Castle Cerwyn rose above the kingsroad, and the edge of the Wolfswood could be seen. All of Ned’s companions who were citizens of Winterfell became excited, knowing that their home was only a day’s ride into the forest. Lord and Lady Cerwyn welcomed Ned and his companions, offering comfortable beds for many of the party. The mood was festive, and Ned allowed the distribution of extra ale and wine from their stores. Privacy had been in short supply on the journey, and after dinner, several couples slipped away into the castle’s Godswood for some intimacy.

Sansa and Gendry disappeared from the dining hall together at their first opportunity. Wrapped in her cloak and warmed by their combined body heat, the young lovers made up for lost time with many deep kisses; their questing hands delving beneath each other’s clothing until they realized that if they didn’t soon stop, they would do something they might regret. Reluctantly, Gendry withdrew his hands from beneath Sansa’s unlaced bodice, and Sansa removed her hand from Gendry’s unlaced breeches.

As they adjusted their clothing, occasionally sharing embarrassed glances, Sansa sighed and said, “Gendry, I must confess that I am nervous as to how my lady mother will accept you. She has always been mean to my bastard brother Jon.”

Gendry tried to be positive. “Lord Stark said that he would support me and recommend me to Lady Catelyn. Cannot you do the same?”

“My lady mother can be stern and intimidating, and I rarely had the nerve to cross her and make her angry.”

“Hmmm, how would the wolf girl act in this situation?” the young smith asked thoughtfully.

Sansa laughed at the memory. “Arya was always stubborn and obstinate. If Mother and Septa Mordane tried to order her around, she would sulk and then disappear with Nymeria. Father indulged her and she usually got her way. Mother would never have tolerated her boy’s clothes, tendency to mix with the smallfolk, and general unladylike behavior if not for Father.”

“Well, since your father endorses me, cannot you be my advocate also? Lady Arya would do so.”

“My sister is fearless, and never avoided a quarrel with Mother. I fear that I do not have her strength.”

“Milady, I think I love you and want to be near you, and I believe that you have same feelings for me. Imagine that you are the wolf girl when facing your lady mother and stand your ground.”

Sansa looked solemn, “I wish that I still had my wolf. I miss Lady and feel apart from my siblings without her.” But then she smiled brightly, “I _do_ love you, Gendry, and I will try to be as brave as Arya when I defend you to Mother. It will be a challenge, I know, but I am a woman grown now, and should have a say in my future.”

Gendry hugged her again and replied, “I look forward to arriving in Winterfell. I am eager to see my new home and I am sure that we will both be happy there.”

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The next morning, as the party prepared to leave on the last leg of their long journey, Ned thanked Lord Cerwyn for his hospitality. As the Lords Tallhart and Glover had done previously, the northern lord also asked if he should prepare for war, and if the North will take the knee to the Targaryens. Ned gave him the same answer, knowing how concerned his bannermen were. _I must make haste to gather the lords and assess the disposition of the North, as I promised Lord Connington, but I hope I have time to enjoy the tranquility of a homecoming for a while,_ he reflected.

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Lady Catelyn Stark and the citizens of Winterfell were anxious for the return of their friends and relatives who had made the ill-fated trip south so long ago. The silent sisters had been frequent unwelcome visitors. First they arrived with the bones of the direwolf Lady and the butcher’s boy Micah. Later they arrived with the remains of Hullen, Porther, Wyl, Jacks, Fat Tom, and the other casualties of the escape from King’s Landing. More recently, they brought the bones of Quent, Varly, and the other guardsmen killed by the Freys. The Starks and their retainers did not want to receive any more ill news, but were eager to be reunited with their living dear ones.

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The adventurers rode gleefully through the gates of the castle to the jubilant sound of welcoming horns. Many jumped from their mounts right into the arms of loved ones as soon as they were recognized. The hubbub was loud and excited and the atmosphere had the air of a festival. Ned was just as enthusiastic and flew into the arms of his lady wife. After greeting her lord husband with a tight, affectionate hug and a deep kiss, Catelyn looked apprehensively at the new arrivals. She noted many familiar faces and thought about the ones that she knew were not returning alive. With a sense of relief Lady Stark spotted Sansa and Jeyne, speaking excitedly with a large cohort of young people, none of whom she recognized. Catelyn gripped Ned’s arm and asked with concern in her voice, “Ned, where is Arya?”

Lord Stark found it difficult to meet his wife’s eyes, “Our younger daughter chose to stay in the south. Arya has decided to follow her own destiny without consulting her parents. This letter will explain her thoughts.” Ned handed her a fat roll of parchment, addressed to her in Arya’s hand, and sealed with the direwolf imprint in grey wax. Lady Catelyn recognized Arya’s writing, but immediately noticed that it was more legible than previously. She tucked it into a cloak pocket to read later, as immediately she became very busy greeting old acquaintances and newcomers alike. Catelyn soon spotted the returning steward, Vayon Poole, and as lady of the castle, set him immediately to work restoring Winterfell to order. She was relieved to have her most important servant back.

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Ned addressed the surviving guardsmen before dismissing them. He thanked his men for their service, granted them leave to visit their families, and instructed his captain, Jory, to distribute their pay. Later, after fond words with Jory, who was eager to see his own family, Lord Stark asked him to write up a list of the deceased guardsmen, for it was his heavy burden to console their grieving families, and ascertain what assistance they required from their lord.

Lord Stark’s first difficult chore was to seek out the butcher, Michael, and his grief-stricken wife, Dinah. Ned expressed his sorrow for Micah’s death at the hands of the Lannisters, and vowed that he would be avenged. “Your son’s murder gave me cause to leave King Robert’s service, and revoke my support for his heartless family.”

The butcher’s face expressed surprise that the death of a smallfolk could have affected his lord so deeply. Ned continued, “My bold daughter Arya tried to protect Micah, and actually wounded cruel Prince Joffrey in his defense. In doing so, Lady Arya became a fugitive, as Joffrey’s uncle and henchmen would have executed her on the spot if they had caught her.”

He paused, noting that the couple’s eyes had become wide and startled. Michael said that he was sorry for the wolf girl’s troubles, as all the smallfolk of Winterfell knew and loved her.

Ned gave a small smile and replied, “Not to worry. Arya is quite resourceful. She found her way into the camp of Prince Aegon Targaryen and became his close friend. She is assisting the Prince’s conflict with the Lannisters, and in a sense, is the North’s ambassador to the future king.”

Michael could not help but chuckle. Shaking his head, he said, “I should not be surprised that ‘Arya underfoot’ would come out on top.”

Now Lord Stark grew serious, as he felt that he owed the family some reparation for their loss. “Michael and Dinah, you have lost a son, and I accept the responsibility because I took Micah south with me. Your older son is already following your trade, so Lady Catelyn and I would like to invite your oldest daughter, Mariah, to dwell in the castle as a handmaiden to Lady Sansa. She will also have the opportunity to share lessons with Lady Sansa, as does steward Poole’s daughter, Jeyne, and get an education.”

The butcher and his wife now looked puzzled. “What use will an education have for smallfolk?”

Reflecting on how assertive Arya always championed the smallfolk and insisted that they were as good as nobles, Ned smiled and replied, “The times they are achanging. If the gods favor a Targaryen victory, educated women may have a role in Westeros.”

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That evening, there was a welcoming feast for the returning party, with music and dancing accompanying a delicious dinner. After behaving as proper hosts for several hours, Ned and Catelyn quietly retired to their chambers, intent on proving how much they missed each other. They made love like newlyweds and Ned was pleased that he seemed to have the stamina of a teenager that night. For her part, Catelyn threw aside all dignity, and was as wanton as a courtesan, shouting her pleasure for all in the castle to hear. Lord Stark’s deep, booming voice could also be heard praising the old gods. Servants smirked that mayhaps there might be another wolf cub to join the large family in the months to come.

Finally when the lord and his lady were exhausted and satisfied for the nonce, they snuggled together naked under the blanket of their comfortable featherbed, sipping from goblets of wine on the side tables, waiting for their breathing to return to normal. Lady Catelyn picked up Arya’s letter from the table, broke the seal, and said, “Well, let us see why our wild child decided not to come home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It is obvious in “ASoIaF” and HBO “Game of Thrones” that Micah’s murder had a profound effect on Arya’s psyche, however the poor boy gets little attention outside of her chapters. I’d like to think that he had a family that grieved for him also.


	43. Arya's Letter (Settling In)

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 43 Arya’s Letter (Settling In)

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Previously:

Finally when Lord and Lady Stark were satisfied for a while, snuggled together in their featherbed, with goblets of wine on the side tables, Catelyn retrieved Arya’s letter and says, “Well, let me learn why my wild child decided not to come home.”

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_Dear Mother – Father told me that since I was not returning to the North with him, I must write to you and explain why. You may not like everything I have to say, but I feel that I have to be truthful. You probably know all about the awful trouble that Prince Joffrey caused and tried to blame on me. I always thought that he was vile, and I am glad that he revealed his true nature to everyone, especially Sansa. She deserves someone better that that stupid boy. I feel awful that Micah and Lady died, but Joffrey, the Hound, and that bitch queen are at fault, not me._

“Ned, who was Micah?”

“He was a butcher’s apprentice who accompanied me as part of our household. Although he already had ten and three namedays, he was Arya’s good friend, and Prince Joffrey hurt him when he caught them sparring by the river. Nymeria bit Joffrey, Arya escaped when Joffrey threatened her, and the Hound brutally murdered Micah.”

“Oh,” was all Catelyn could say, in a soft, sad voice.

_Running away from the Lannisters actually turned out to be the best thing that could have happened to me, and I am glad that I found the Targaryen camp. Lord Jon Connington is a stern lord like Father, but he is a practical man, too, and he appreciates that I have skills and did not dismiss me as a useless little girl or force me to wear a dress and only do stupid girl things. He arranged for me to learn swordplay and study with the maester, and he even values my advice in his war council._

“WHAT?!’ Lady Stark cried out.

“Tis true, he has great respect for our little girl.”

_Lord Jon asked his friend, Septa Lemore, to look after me, and she has been very understanding about the ways in which I am different from other girls and treats me right. Her name is actually Lady Ashara Dayne_

Lady Catelyn gave her husband a hard look, and he tried not to look guilty.

_and she does not fuss about my boy’s clothing, but she **has** improved my grooming habits. I try to stay cleaner because she says that my appearance reflects on Lord Jon, and I don’t want to make him look bad._

“Gods, imagine that! She never cared to clean up for me!”

_Septa Mordane and you always treated me like a freak and I always felt terrible after you criticized me, but I have learned from my mentors here that there is nothing wrong with me, and that I have the same potential as a talented male squire._

“Oh my, Ned, did we really do that? Should we have treated Arya differently?”

“You did not understand her, sweetling. You could never have realized that she was not just a younger version of Sansa.”

_Since girls can’t be squires, and that is a STUPID rule, Lord Jon and Father decided that I could be Lord Jon’s ward, and he would take charge of my schooling. In fact, he respects me enough to assign me the role of assisting in Prince Aegon’s education. Since I am good with letters and sums, and like studying military history, Lord Jon asked me to coach Aegon in the classroom and the practice yard. We work together very well and both of us have benefited from our shared training._

_This brings me to the most important part of this letter. Father wanted me to explain why I decided not to come home. When I arrived in the Targaryen camp, Prince Aegon and I became best friends almost immediately. He is only a few years older and treats me just like Robb and Jon and Theon did. It doesn’t bother him that I usually dress like a boy, and he doesn’t feel put out if I best him at cyvasse or schoolwork or swordplay. We spar and ride and climb and swim and wrestle with Nymeria and have a wonderful time together. Prince Aegon prefers me as a friend more than the simpering, giggling, proper little ladies that always flirt and bat their eyelashes at him. They make him uncomfortable, and he always says that he likes my honesty and plain speaking._

“Ned, where is this going?”

“You will soon see, my dear.”

_But there is one thing about Aegon that complicates our friendship. He is a lot like Sansa and has stupid romantic ideas all the time. Actually, I was told that he is a lot like his father, Prince Rhaegar, because he sings beautifully, plays the harp, and writes poetry. Sansa told me that I have to learn to appreciate that side of him, and I suppose that she is right, but I HATE sitting around listening to someone recite poetry or singing love songs, and have to stifle the urge to gag._

“You are right. She is definitely not another Sansa.”

_Anyway, after a while, Aegon decided that he liked me more than as just a friend, and told Lord Jon that he wanted to be betrothed to me._

“WHAT?!” You did not tell me about this!”

“I wanted Arya to tell you herself.”

_Both Lord Jon and I told him that he was crazy, but Aegon can be very stubborn, and persisted in courting me over a long period of time. I have to admit that I have become fond of him because he really does treat me like his equal and I like kissing him_

“KISSING?!”

“Calm yourself, sweetling.”

_but sometimes he gets too mushy and I have to tell him to cut it out. But I really do like him better than other boys, and I have begun to agree with him that we could be happy together when we grow up. For that reason, and with Lord Jon and Father’s approval, we have decided that when Aegon’s army wins the war, we will announce our betrothal._

Catelyn put down the letter, took a deep breath, shakily raised her goblet of wine, and looked at her husband, “Tis for true, Ned? If Arya marries Aegon, she will become queen of Westeros!”

Lord Stark nodded solemnly, but said not a word. Catelyn picked up the letter again.

_For the present, Aegon will be advancing on King’s Landing to begin a siege, and I am traveling to Sunspear with my mentor, Lady Nymeria Sand of Dorne, a member of the Martell Great House. Lady Nym is a warrior woman and is teaching me that a woman can fight with steel like a knight and still be a lady. I am learning to defeat men with both weapons and womanly wiles. I wear Dornish silk robes and make-up and feel girly when it is appropriate, so you and Septa Mordane worried needlessly about me being strange._

“WHAT!”

“Tis also true, my lady. Our daughter has blossomed into a real beauty. She resembles her Aunt Lyanna and many have noticed this fact.”

_Anyway, I will accompany Lady Nym and her Dornish army to the siege of King’s Landing, where we will meet up with Aegon and Golden Company and defeat the Lannisters. I would love to kill that arsehole Joffrey myself._

“Oh, my. Has Arya always been so profane and violent?”

“Um, yes. She has been described as a ‘force of nature’.

_When all this is over, I want to bring Aegon to Winterfell so you can meet him. Aegon never knew his mother and Lady Ashara raised him as if he was her son, but it is not the same, and he would appreciate having you for his good-mother._

“Oh, Ned, that is the sweetest thing she has ever said to me.”

_Mother, there is one more thing I want to mention, and it is about Gendry. I know that you will disapprove of him because he is a bastard, but I want you to be nice to him because he is a good and honest boy, and he does not deserve to be mistreated on account of his birth. Besides, he saved Sansa’s life, and you owe it to him to be grateful._

_Writing this has been a lot of work and I’m done now. I love you and Father and will miss my brothers, but I have things to do. Aegon is always so dramatic, and he says that it is destiny. We shall see if he is right._

_Your daughter, Arya_

“Well, that was quite surprising. I don’t know what to say.”

“When I first met Arya in the Targaryen camp, I sensed that the wheels were already in motion, but I did not expect it to come to this. All I can say is that we shall see what we shall see.”

“And what was that about Gendry?” When the party had arrived, Catelyn was able to give Sansa a tight hug, and had a brief introduction to all the new young people, but there was too much excitement for her to spend any time becoming better acquainted with them. She did notice at dinner, though, that the boy in question was large and handsome, and the serving girls could not seem to leave him alone, which resulted in dark and jealous looks from her daughter Sansa.

“Gendry is obviously the son of my old friend Robert, and Jon Arryn had hidden him away as an apprentice blacksmith for his protection. The Lannisters were looking for Robert’s bastards with the intention of killing them all, so I took him with me when I fled King’s Landing. His first act was to stun a Kingsguard knight intent on killing or capturing Sansa, and later he protected her from Frey soldiers. He is a good lad and a talented craftsman, and exhibits none of his father’s bad qualities. I have made Gendry my ward, and he will receive the same education as our boys. He will also work with Mikken in the forge.”

“What will he do when he reaches his majority?”

“Well, I told him that it will be his decision to become either a knight or a smith, but he has forged a friendship with Prince Aegon. When the prince becomes king, he would be inclined to legitimize Gendry and install him in Storms End as Lord Baratheon, if he so desires.”

Lady Stark smiled at the mention of the prince becoming a king and said, “I still find it hard to believe that Arya wants to marry a prince. I can just imagine her sitting on a throne in Bran’s clothing, mud on her face and boots, and with uncombed, tangled hair.”

Ned laughed, “That is not too farfetched. Arya is often seen just as you described her. I must warn you that Gendry and Sansa have affection for each other, and our daughter has been spending a lot of time with the humble lad.”

Catelyn looked startled, “What do you mean by ‘affection for each other’?”

Lord Stark appeared uncomfortable, “I know that there has been some kissing in the Godswood.”

“Ned, I don’t want to think about our daughters kissing boys, and I suspect that Arya already enjoys it too much for my comfort.”

“Well, I am not going to dwell on our girls’ romances; I had enough of that at Harrenhal,” then he waggled his eyebrows and said with a smirk as he put his arm around her, “but I am not done kissing _you!_ ”

Lady Stark gave her husband a wicked glance as she stroked the hair on his chest, “Oh, do you require more attention, my lord?” and they continued to enjoy their reunion.

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Later, Catelyn pulled her daughter aside and asked, “Sansa, what do you know about your little sister and this Prince Aegon?”

Sansa giggled and her eyes flashed, “Oh Mother, when I arrived in Harrenhal, I learned from the other girls that all the castle gossip was about them. Aegon and Arya were seen swimming naked in a pond and also got in trouble for ‘playing maester’. Then Arya saved the prince’s life from a rampaging horse during a battle, and later became drunk and vulgar during the victory celebration.”

Lady Stark collapsed into a chair, gasping for air. “I don’t know if I can stand anymore! I am so embarrassed!”

But Sansa was not finished. She continued to gush, “In spite of all that, Prince Aegon announced to practically all the world that he intended to marry Arya and make her his queen. She surprised us by appearing in the dining hall after we were all seated, dressed like a proper lady, arm in arm with her betrothed. It was quite a sight! Prince Aegon’s sellswords call her their ‘wolf princess’ and adore her.”

Catelyn was finally breathing normally, but still seemed to be in shock, “How can this be?! It is so confusing!”

Now Sansa looked self-confident, “Mother, you and Septa Mordane were totally wrong! You always taught me that men want proper ladies. Septa Mordane always said that tomboy Arya would never find a husband, and yet she has had more admirers and fun than both Jeyne and me! She even had Gendry under her spell. You were wrong, Mother, boys like her style. A girl who wears breeches and swings a sword attracts the best ones!”

Lady Stark just shook her head, “I don’t understand. What you say is so different than what I have always known, and yet your unusual sister may become the next queen of Westeros! I don’t know what to think now.”

They sat quietly for a moment as they both pondered the wild wolf girl. All of a sudden, Catelyn looked sharply at her daughter, “Wait a minute! What did you mean by ‘she even had Gendry under her spell’?”

Sansa blushed, “At Harrenhal, Arya helped Gendry in the smithy just like she did with Mikken here, and I think they developed a crush on each other. Then she decided that she liked Aegon more than Gendry, and had the nerve to come to me and say that I could have Gendry if I treated him right.”

“Sansa, I worry that your sister is out of control. I wish I could speak to her.”

The proper sister smirked, “Well, she is being influenced by Lady Nymeria Sand and her handmaiden Sarra now, and those women are wicked. They are teaching Arya the art of seduction and she certainly seemed to be enjoying her education!”

“Now I _am_ worried! I will have to speak to your father about this. But what about _you_? What is going on between you and this Gendry?”

Sansa blushed again but forced herself to meet her mother’s eyes. “Gendry protected me from harm several times during our journey home. We have grown close and I think that I am falling in love with him. Father approves of him and told me that I should encourage him to aspire to be a lord if I really believe that we can have a future together.”

“Well, for once I totally agree with your father on a subject concerning you girls. Nevertheless, I must talk to this boy and get to know him before I decide how I feel. Leave me now as I have much to ponder.”

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At dinner that evening, Catelyn watched the highborn children’s table carefully. Now she noticed the strong resemblance between Gendry and his father. As a young man, Lord Robert Baratheon was an impressive figure – tall, handsome, and muscular, with long straight black hair and mesmerizing bright blue eyes. Although Gendry only had ten and five namedays, he was as large as a grown man and already his face revealed that he could grow a thick beard. Lady Stark understood why all the girls seem to be fawning over him and hoped that he did not also possess his father’s wandering eye. _I will have to warn Sansa about that,_ she thought as she remembered how Sansa had confessed that she was fond of the lad.

Sitting next to Gendry was a young squire from the Crownlands that Ned said was also his new ward. The boy had pleasant features and was in an animated conversation with Jeyne and Sansa. They were all of the same age and already seemed to be well-acquainted and sociable. Gendry was japing with Robb and Theon and it was apparent that the older boys were going to be fast friends.

Catelyn was intrigued by the Reed siblings. They were quiet and polite, and the boy Jojen seemed to be the serious type. He was speaking with Bran, and the two younger boys appeared to have rapport. Jojen’s sister Meera listened to their conversation and sometimes added to her brother’s remarks. Lady Stark was puzzled to observe that Bran and Meera were frequently stealing glances at each other, and occasionally shyly made eye contact. She recalled that Bran’s favorite sibling was Arya, who was closest to his age, and Meera vaguely resembled the younger Stark girl, with her dark braid, thin frame, and boyish clothing. Meera’s leather tunic was covered with overlapping brass plates, and she was armed with a shortsword, a trident, and a net. Catelyn wondered how Meera would get on with Sansa and Jeyne, and pondered how she should treat her new charge. She had half a mind to send a message to Lady Reed and ask her what she desired for the girl.

Lady Stark sighed and thought, _I will have to discuss education plans for all these youngsters with Maester Luwin. If Lord Eddard and I are to be responsible for a castle filled with teenagers, I hope Steward Poole’s wine cellar has plenty of Arbor Gold. We will need it!_

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Robb and Theon brought the new boys to the training yard, telling them that they would later meet the master-of-arms. Theon looked Gendry up and down, and waving a wooden practice sword, smirked, “I am eager to see if your skill matches your size.”

Gendry replied, “I admit that I am new to swordplay, but I have survived several battles and I am confident that I can learn to be a good fighter.” He crossed swords with Robb for a while, and then sparred with Theon, the more experienced boys feeling out Gendry’s strengths and weaknesses.

When they were all panting from exertion, Robb commented, “You are strong and your blows are very powerful. You can use that to your advantage.”

Theon teased, “Aye, but his footwork is sloppy, and I wager that I can easily land him on his arse.”

The good-humored smith only laughed and said, “Well, lads, I want you to challenge me because I intend to be a formidable swordsman. Lady Sansa will admire me when I improve my skill.”

Robb rolled his eyes, “My sweet sister does seem to favor you, and she is always babbling about knights in shining armor.”

“And she looks daggers at the serving girls who flirt with you. I would love to see her lose her temper and smack the next one that dares to fondle your arms,” japed Theon.

“Lady Sansa would never do something so unladylike.” Gendry muttered as he tried not to blush too much. He was desperate to change the subject, so he continued, “Your other sister Arya is the unladylike one. At Harrenhal, the wolf girl was ferocious in the training yard, and mercilessly drove us all to work hard at our craft. She was right, for if I hadn’t taken her suggestions to heart, I would probably have died fighting the Freys.”

This last statement caused Robb to become serious, and he offered, “Arya desperately wanted to train with our master-at-arms, Ser Rodrik, but Mother would never had allowed it. I understand that she got her wish when she took up with Prince Aegon.”

Gendry smiled and told the Winterfell youths, “Arya pushed Prince Aegon the hardest, shouting at him that he needed to become more aggressive and fierce if he truly wanted to be a king. She was so ruthless that one would think that she hated him.”

“I can just imagine my wild little sister scowling and scolding at the poor boy,” laughed Robb.

“Aye,” Theon added, “I always said ‘woe to the boy who falls for Arya underfoot. She would make him miserable’”. Then he grinned wickedly, “But I wager that she will be as wild in bed as in the training yard!”

Robb looked scandalized, and said sharply, “Theon, I don’t like you talking about my sister like that!”

His friend chuckled and retorted, “Come on, Robb, I’ve always thought that Arya’s attitude and behavior would make her desirable and delightfully fuckable, and Gendry, why are you turning red?”

Gendry had tried to hide his shock upon hearing Theon’s words, but it was too late.

Robb turned on him and furiously accused, “Gendry, do not tell me that you dishonored my sister!”

The young smith raised both hands in surrender and backed away from Robb, pleading, “No, no, I would never do such a thing! But I did kiss her and she really is as desirable as Theon imagines!”

“Really?” Theon’s eyes became wider, “I wish I could see her now. I loved to tease her and mayhaps I could steal a kiss!”

“Stop it, both of you!” Robb was about to explode with anger and he started threatening the boys with his practice blade, “I don’t want to hear any more lewd remarks about my little sister!”

“All right! All right, Robb! Calm down. We mean no harm. Don’t be so sensitive!” Theon countered.

“It’s just that Arya always had a knack for getting into trouble, and Jon and I tried to protect her from punishment. She kept us very busy.” Robb reflected, calmer now, and then pondered with a faraway gaze, “I still find it hard to imagine Arya betrothed to a prince.”

Gendry offered, “Your sister is a very unusual girl, as vicious as an assassin when fighting, yet as beautiful as Sansa when dressed for dinner. Would you believe that the 5000 sellswords of Golden Company have declared her their ‘wolf princess’ and would follow Arya and Aegon into battle without any reservation?”

“Beautiful?” Both Robb and Theon looked intrigued.

“Aye, men fall at her feet. The prince fell hard for her and made it no secret.” Gendry nudged Squire Adrian, who was standing next to him, “even this one did.”

The other boys looked at the squire questioningly.

Adrian sheepishly admitted, “I was infatuated with her graceful water dancing, and I wanted to profess my love for her, but the first time that I had the nerve to do so, it was at a party, and she was drunk and pulled me in for a kiss and squeezed my arse.”

Robb and Theon could not help but fall down laughing. Robb chuckled, “That’s just like Arya, totally inappropriate for any occasion! I wager that my lady mother is having fits as these stories reach her ears, as they most certainly will.”

When the laughter subsided, Theon ventured, “Can you imagine that we might have to address Arya as ‘Your grace’ the next time we see her?”

“In any case, I will be totally thrilled to see her again,” Robb replied, “But come now, we have to learn what Adrian knows about swordplay.”

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Jojen and Meera were speaking to Bran in the Godswood. The serious young crannogman asked, “Bran, do you have wolf dreams?” Bran admitted that most nights he dreamed that he was hunting game in his direwolf Summer’s body. Jojen nodded, and replied, “I am sure that you are a warg, and I suspect that all your siblings are also. Do you have any other unusual dreams?”

Bran looked troubled and told his new friends, “I dream about Jon at the Wall, and always have the feeling that he is in danger. When I have that dream it always seems like something terrible is about to happen.”

Meera looked at him closely and then at her brother. Jojen nodded again and said, “I have also dreamt about the Wall, and more so, I have had dreadful feelings that there are monsters beyond it that want to hurt us.”

“In my dreams I am afraid of whatever is beyond the Wall,” Bran added.

“My father says that like some of my ancestors, I have the Greensight, and see things that will come true in the future. Ancient stories call the horror beyond the Wall ‘The Others’ and prophecies say that they are our greatest threat. Your brother may be in as much danger as you imagine, and even worse, all Westeros may be in danger.”

Bran looked worried, “Can we do anything to help Jon?”

“I don’t know, but if we ever become certain that the danger is real, we must speak to your father. That is one reason why Meera and I have come to Winterfell.”

The young Stark nodded. He had always imagined that he would grow up to be a knight and fight in important battles, and he wondered if the enemy that Jojen had named was his true adversary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, there are lots of loose ends, and I have several plot lines to address. The last section was meant to be foreshadowing and we will eventually have to deal with it.


	44. Arya in Dorne – Various Lessons

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 44 Arya in Dorne – Various Lessons

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Prince Oberyn arrived at the Water Gardens and sent a squire to summon Arya to spear training. Arya decided to wear her butchered leathers that she altered on shipboard. She had grown since that time and the tunic was close-fitting, revealing the curves of her bosom. Her hips were wider now and her breeches were impossibly tight, but Arya liked the snug fit.

She approached the handsome Dornishman, who greeted her with a smile and put his hand on her shoulder to steer her towards the training yard. Arya remembered how intensely Oberon had gazed at her when they first met, and she impulsively moved his hand to cover her breast. She had heard the smallfolk of the castle gossiping about the prince’s sexual escapades. It was common knowledge that he had bedded hundreds of women and several men since he reached maturity, and had eight known bastard daughters, the sand snakes, from five paramours. From the way he had studied her she wondered if he desired her. Oberon looked startled, and squeezed the teat briefly before sliding his hand sensually over the bare skin of her ribs and lower back, exposed by the short tunic, and down to pinch the lower curve of her arse, lingering near the edge of her breeches. He whispered with hot breath into her ear, “I don’t know how much my daughter Nym has taught you about the art of seduction already, wolf girl, but understand that you are dealing with the master now.” The prince released his grip on her bottom, and Arya felt flustered and slightly damp between her legs. She tried to refocus as they walked out on the sand of the yard.

Several young men, his squires, were also watching as Oberyn chose a spear from the rack and showed it to Arya. She noted that the weapon was composed of about eight feet of sturdy hardwood staff, and the last two feet were capped with a wicked-looking, sharp and gleaming steel blade that narrowed to a long dangerous point. “The spear has three important parts,” he explained, “the point, the blade, and the shaft. They all have their special purposes.”

A squire approached him with two practice spears, and the pair moved through a variety of graceful thrusts and parries, demonstrating how the different parts of spear could be applied in combat, often with the intention of forcing an opponent into a more vulnerable position.

Arya ventured, “I only thought of a spear as a sort of lance, used for stabbing only. I didn’t realize that there were so many functions for the entire length."

Oberyn replied, “The point definitely has a deadly purpose, but the blade is more important, and the shaft is most important for tactics. A shaft alone is a formidable weapon, by itself it can be lethal if used properly. I think of it as an extension of my arm, reaching out to disarm or injure my enemy, especially if my opponent is larger than me and has a longer reach.”

Arya became excited and responded, ‘With the Golden Company, my mentor taught me the Braavosi water dance. He said that my sword should become part of my arm, and that way I would never drop it.”

Prince Oberyn replied, “Ah, I have been to Braavos and studied the water dance myself. I find the techniques very useful for my fighting style. Take up a spear, wolf girl, and we will begin your education.” Arya selected a practice spear, observing that it was quite heavy and knew that working with it on a regular basis would certainly improve her arm strength. She realized that she would unfortunately tire quickly while sparring until she had adapted to its weight.

The skilled warrior showed the girl how to parry and threaten an opponent with the shaft, and when it was advantageous to move in and slice with the blade or prod with the point. He demonstrated using the point only as a last resort, as the fighting style he used made that thrusting motion more awkward. “Be careful when stabbing, Arya, because at that moment you are most vulnerable to a counterattack. However, the point is most important for finding weaknesses in the plate armor of an opponent. A thrust into any joint like the elbows, knees, or shoulders can disable a knight who may have a size or strength advantage over you. If you can ever strike an enemy between the gorget and the breastplate or helm, you will surely kill him with one blow.”

Arya nodded and copied his moves. The prince called for one of his squires to spar with her, now ordering her to consider the spear as only a stick, and they parried and fought close together. Arya was shorter than most of the lads, but she was fast, and that worked to her advantage; slipping sideways when attacked, and moving behind an opponent.

Oberyn observed her style and commented approvingly with a smile, “Quick as a snake, slippery as an eel.”

The group sparred for several hours, taking turns and changing partners, and Arya was happy that none of the squires protested about fighting a girl, a complaint she had often heard from squires north of Dorne. Oberyn frequently stopped the action to correct a misstep or teach a new move.

Finally everyone was exhausted and sweaty, and Oberyn suggested going to the steam baths to refresh sore muscles, a behavior which was common even in Dorne’s hot climate.

Arya was the last to arrive, as she stayed behind to look at the collection of weapons in the racks, and as she stepped out of her leathers, she was aware of Oberyn deliberately inspecting her body. She felt his eyes roam from her breasts to her mound, which made her feel self-conscious, and she idly wondered if he had become aroused, as she had previously noticed that most boys who looked at her or touched her had obviously become tumescent. Oberyn’s lower torso was below the surface of the water, and she was disappointed that she could not satisfy her curiosity.

As she entered the steaming water, the prince boldly asked, “Lady Arya, have you flowered yet?” The girl shook her head no, and he continued, “Nevertheless, you will be as beautiful as my daughter Nymeria when you mature.”

Arya replied, “I don’t care, I just want to be a superior fighter.”

Oberyn smiled again and said, “Ah, but be advised that your body can be used as a weapon, also.”

Arya returned his smile and responded, “I know, Lady Nym has made that most clear to me. When I mentioned that to Father and Lord Connington, they looked very uncomfortable.”

The Viper laughed loudly and said, “I will wager that you will make many men uncomfortable during your lifetime. I hope you enjoyed your introduction to the spear. I think that you will do well with this weapon.”

Arya was pleased with the praise and said that she looked forward to her next lesson.

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Arya found herself working harder than at Harrenhal. Maester Caleotte was demanding and kept her quite busy with military tactics and history, mathematics, and the details of kingdoms of Westeros. Since Lady Nym had told him that Arya could become queen, he was determined to fill the girl’s head with everything he felt she should know as a future ruler. Early on, Arya had dared him to challenge her brain, so she did not complain. He did comment once that she was probably the most capable student he had ever had, which went to her head and made her work harder.

Besides academic work, she was improving her horsemanship with a sand steed, and had been given her own horse now, which pleased her to no end. She had to continue her knife work, focusing on speed and accuracy, water dancing with Needle, and Westerosi shortsword techniques. Of course, spear training with Prince Oberyn was her main weaponry interest at this time, also.

Under Lady Nym’s direction, Sarra had taken over Arya’s education in the art of seduction, from explaining facial expressions and conversations, to erotic activities beneath the sheets at night. Sansa would have been amused if she had witnessed Sarra teaching Arya how to apply makeup and select attractive clothing, but would have been horrified if she had seen the more experienced girl demonstrating ways to please a man by using a carrot taken from the kitchen as a model.

Arya wasn’t the only one working harder in Dorne. Sarra was improving her knife skills every day, and was expected to become an expert at maiming or killing an opponent from moving horseback. The maester also continued her political and psychology education, japing that someday she might be a valued colleague for Prince Doran or Lord Connington, or mayhaps become the Hand herself.

Arron would be going to the Citadel soon, so the maester had him studying many subjects that were not required in Arya’s plan. As a result, they did not have as many shared lessons as previously.

Perros had the least interesting work. As a squire to a knight, he spent much of his time polishing armor, sharpening blades, and grooming the warhorse. He was expected to find time to practice swordplay, and sparring was one activity that he enjoyed.

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After several weeks, the four youngsters were finally able to take a break at the same time together one afternoon. They met at the large pool and decided to join the jousters. Arya climbed up on Arron’s shoulders and as she settled herself Arron stroked her thighs, attempting to balance her before moving into combat. At the touch of his hands on her upper legs, Arya’s center immediately became wet and she involuntarily pressed her mound against the back of his neck. Startled, Arron turned his head to look at her, observing that her teats had become hard and pointed. Arya blushed when they made eye contact, and continuing her gaze, noticing that Arron was obviously very aroused.

She blurted out, “Arron, you are turning into a stallion!”

“What?!” the boy exclaimed, and then became aware that she was referring to his sudden erection. “What do you expect? I have a beautiful girl on my back with her wet slit pressed against my neck!”

Arya realized that the familiar yearning feeling was growing in her groin, and glancing over at Sarra and Perros, she noticed that they seemed to be having a similar encounter. Lust was very obvious in their eyes as they stared at each other. Perros’ hands were gripping Sarra’s thighs, and her hands were covering his.

The bold wolf girl looked back at Arron, thinking, _I really need to kiss someone!_ and said in a husky voice, “We should joust for a little while and then go for a walk in our orange grove.” Later, Sarra explained that the new emotion she was feeling was called ‘horniness’ and she and Lady Nym experienced it all the time.

Arron’s voice could barely hide his desire, “I couldn’t agree more.”

It was difficult to stay focused on jousting, and soon afterwards, the foursome left the pool, dried themselves off, got dressed and went into the woods. As soon as Arron threw down his towel in their familiar private spot, Arya plunked down on it, and when Arron joined her, she immediately pulled him into a passionate embrace. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see that Sarra and Perros were not wasting any time either.

While they tangled their tongues, Arron’s hands slid around her torso to cup her breasts. Arya lets her robes fall away to give him access and he immediately started massaging her bosom, squeezing her teats with his fingertips. Arya began moaning and pulled away Arron’s silks so their naked upper bodies were soon pressed closely together, clad only in smallclothes. Arya panted, “Arron, use your mouth, kiss my breasts.”

Arron wasted no time. He immediately lowered his head, and began lavishing attention on each breast in turn, kissing, sucking, and biting her teats. Arya’s fingers were in his hair, gripping his head tightly. She was moaning and her eyes almost rolled to the back of her head. She was losing all awareness as he passionately kissed her breasts. Her center was on fire and she rubbed herself against his chest. Arron stopped to kiss her lips and throat, muttering, “Oh, gods!” when his mouth was not attached to some part of her body.

Arya glanced over and saw that Sarra’s and Perros’ clothes were lying in a heap. Sarra was naked and lying on her back with her knees up and Perros was positioned between her open legs, his arse bobbing up and down. They were both groaning softly.

Arya breathed into her boy’s ear, “Oh, look, Arron, they’re fucking!”

Arron looked quickly, groaned, and immediately went back to kissing one of Arya’s breasts, trying to squeeze the entire globe in his mouth, sucking loudly. Arya’s head fell back and the pleasure was so intense that she thought that she was dying. Then, his hand snaked under the edge of her smallclothes and he covered her mound with his palm, stroking the soft hair. She reached down to loosen the laces and wiggled the silk down her legs, placing her hand over his, guiding his index finger inside her. They both groaned loudly when he penetrated her passage, moving the finger slowly in and out, rubbing her button with his thumb. Arya loosened his smallclothes and pushed them down his legs, and his member popped out, joining the party. Arron stopped kissing her breasts and moved up her body to kiss her mouth and neck, giving her closer access to his cock. She cupped his package and started stroking his member, dragging her fingers along the length of the cock and squeezing the tip, gently pressing with her nails as Sarra has taught her. _It doesn’t really feel like a carrot,_ she thought as she caressed his manhood, which felt as stiff and hard as an iron rod.

Sarra and Perros were louder now and had started moving faster. Arya and Arron became aware of the sound of wet flesh slapping together as the fucking approached a climax. Arron groaned and positioned himself to press their loins together, sliding his cock back and forth against her sopping wet slit.

Arya disengaged suddenly, shook Arron’s shoulder until he opened his eyes, and he looked at her with wild eyes. They were both sweating profusely, and their hair was soaking wet and clinging to their faces. She could still feel the tip of his cock throbbing close to her channel. Huffing and struggling to be coherent, Arya says, “Arron! I have to warn you! I am a maiden and have to remain so or I will disgrace my family. I have been cautioned not to fuck until I am married, or there will be all the seven hells to pay! I don’t want to stop, but we _must_ right now!”

Arron let out a great moan, and without saying a word, he began caressing her slit and button with more intensity, and covered her hand with his other one, encouraging her to stroke his cock faster. Almost momentarily, Arya screamed, “Oh fuck!” Her sex convulsed around his finger, and her tension was released violently as she came. She felt her hand become wet as Arron’s cock throbbed and then became limp as he fell back sighing with relief.

They lay side by side for a few minutes panting heavily, and then turned to each other and made eye contact. Arya was the first to speak, “That was excellent!” Arron could not talk, he only nodded and sighed.

When her eyes were clear enough to focus on her surroundings, she saw Sarra and Perros lying naked on their towel, but only hugging now. Sarra grinned at Arya and japed, “You put on quite a show!”

Arya blushed but retorted, “Well, so did you!”

Sarra reached for Perros large cock and shook it, saying, “I hope you enjoyed the demonstration. I did!”

“So did I,” Perros added, squeezing one of Sarra’s lovely breasts, and kissing her neck.

Arron finally returned to his senses and shifted his position to kiss Arya on the back of her neck and reach around to cup a breast, muttering, “I don’t want to go to the Citadel. I want to stay here and kiss you forever.”

Ever-practical Arya replied, “You know that is not possible. We both have other plans for the future. But we can have fun while we are still together.”

“I agree,” they heard Perros say, and looking over they saw that he was now on his back, and Sarra was positioned on his waist, straddling his midsection, sliding up and down on his cock and moaning with her head thrown back and her eyes squeezed shut.

Arya and Arron looked at each other and Arya hastily said, “We better leave before we are tempted to do something that we shouldn’t.

Arron sighed reluctantly, gathering his clothing, “I suppose you are right. But we better go bathe before dressing, because we both are a sight.” She realized that their bodies were covered in sweat and stickiness, and her braid was a mess.

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Later, they were to share a trigonometry lesson with the maester, but found themselves trading glances and blushing constantly as he spoke. Maester Caleotte noticed what was going on, saw their swollen lips, and finally said, “Both of you get out of here! You are too distracted! Go cool off in the fountains or go back to kissing, but I can’t do a thing with you right now! Lady Arya, if you need moon tea, tell me right now! And Arron, you better realize that the longer you dally with the wolf girl, the harder it will be to leave her. Think on that!”

The indignant and angry educator ushered them out of his chambers and slammed the door. Part of the reason he was so angry was that he was jealous of young Arron. He had begun his Citadel training at a very young age and never had the opportunity to form a friendship with any girl, let alone one as pretty, smart, and spirited as Arya. He felt bitter and frustrated, but at the same time he felt sorrow for Arron, knowing that the boy would soon be parted from his companion. The maester knew that the forced separation would be painful for the green boy, but hopefully the experience would be educational. He was reminded of the old cliché, ‘tis better to have loved and lost, than to have never loved at all’. The old man smiled wryly and thought, _I wager Arron’s response would be, “Thanks a lot, that really fucking helps!”_

The pair stood outside the maester’s door, looking at each other with wide eyes. Arron was very flustered. In his whole life he had never been rejected by a maester in that manner and he was very confused. The boy looked at Arya and asked, “Well, what do we do now?”

Arya was thinking, _Certainly not more kissing! Only the gods know where that would go!_ Her emotions were in turmoil. In her imagination she could picture tiny versions of Nym and Sarra sitting on her left shoulder, grinning and saying, “Come on, Arya, don’t you want to ride the boy like a horse? It is so much fun!” And on her right shoulder, she imagined solemn and reproachful versions of her father and Aegon shaking their heads, Father saying, “Would you so dishonor the noble names of Houses Stark and Targaryen?”

She turned to Arron and replied, “When I am angry, upset, or frustrated, I find that the best thing to do is to go to the practice yard and swing a sword at someone or something. I always feel much better afterwards.”

Arron looked doubtful, “I have never been to the practice yard.”

“Really?!” Arya was very surprised. _Every_ boy that she knew had some knowledge of blades.

“Aye, from the moment that I could read, which happened at a very early age, my maester stuck my nose in a book and told me that I would prepare for the Citadel from that moment on. He advised the master-at-arms of House Qorgyle to leave me alone, and I never learned how to spar.”

The wolf girl looked thoughtful and suggested, “Would you like to go to the armory and learn about handheld weapons?”

Arron shrugged, “Why not? That is certainly a hole in my education.”

Enthusiastically, Arya grabbed his hand and shouted, “Let’s go!” and led him to the armory. Since the day that Jon Snow had given his unruly little sister her first toy sword, Arya had dreamed of becoming a knight and fighting in wars. Her first disappointment was learning that dragons did not exist, so she did not need to protect Winterfell from that great evil. Her biggest disappointment, which made no sense to her, was being told that girls could not become squires or knights. She hated being reminded of that fact, and she even gave Aegon a bruise on his arm when he teased her about it, causing Lord Jon to scold her and force her into a dress for two days.

Given an opportunity to show off her expertise, Arya eagerly explained what she knew about daggers and throwing knives, displaying various examples. She brought out shortswords, longswords, bastard swords, and even a two-handed greatsword, which she could barely lift. Arron had to help her return it to the rack. Arya exhibited a huge warhammer, and Arron’s eyes widened when she related that it was the weapon of choice of King Robert Baratheon, and that one like it was used to stove in Prince Rhaegar Targaryen’s chest at the Trident, killing him instantly. She demonstrated the wicked combination of the forked trident and the net, used for ensnaring an opponent before the kill. She swung a mace, showing how dangerous the spinning, spiked ball on a chain could be. Arya led him to the wooden practice weapons, saying that it was too dangerous to spar with live steel, as no one wanted their limbs lopped off while merely training. Arron laughed at that obvious, but necessary statement.

Lastly, Arya showed him an evil-looking Dothraki _arakh_ , a long, razor-sharp curved blade, with a hook two thirds of the way along the outside curve. Bokko had introduced the weapon to her at Harrenhal, and in his teasing way, used the hook to capture her braid and cause her to lose her balance. She hated when he got her off balance, because that was when he would quickly pinch her arse, laugh, and move out of the range of her sword. Arya suspected that the pinch was meant to be a lesson, but she felt humiliated and angry when he did it. She had the satisfaction of blackening his eye the last time he tried to do so, so she felt she won in the end.

Arya’s eyes were sparkling with excitement when she was done, as she had never before had the opportunity to be an authority on weaponry, and Arron had been most interested and responsive to her tales. He was a born student, and appreciated that he had learned so much from her presentation. Arron thanked her and told her how much he enjoyed acquiring her knowledge of the armory.

But he could not help but add, “Lady Arya, I have never seen a girl as alluring and desirable as you are when you speak of fighting and killing, and I have an overwhelming urge to kiss you.” Arron moved close to her and gently embraced her, not wanting to appear to be too forward.

The wolf girl was excited from giving her talk to such a receptive audience, and she realized that she also felt desire. Arya moved her face closer to his, and in a moment they were enthusiastically tangling tongues. Her hands were in his hair, and his moved his hands down her back to cup the curves of her arse as he held her more tightly. Arya pressed her center against him and discovered that Arron was very aroused.

They were grinding against each other and moaning into each other’s mouth, just as, to their great misfortune, Prince Oberyn entered the armory. He stopped when he saw them and started laughing boisterously. They broke apart with guilty expressions as the prince recovered his composure. He smiled broadly at them and with a wicked grin japed, “Wolf girl, you are certainly the most dedicated apprentice my daughter Nym has every had! At your tender age, not only are you fascinated by steel swords, but you seem to be captivated with the fleshy swords carried by men. And Arron Qorgyle! You aspire to become a maester. Aren’t you supposed to keep your sword in your sheath?” He shook his head, feigning sadness, “I am confused by your behavior.”

Arya was totally embarrassed and reckoned matters could not get much worse. She grabbed Arron’s hand, as the boy seemed to have been struck speechless, and responded, “Excuse us, my lord, we are late for a lesson with the maester,” and dragged him out of the armory as quickly as she could, but not fast enough to hear Prince Oberyn’s derisive rejoinder, “I don’t think that the maester can teach you what you both want to learn. For that all you really need is a bed!”

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At dinner that evening, Arya had to make every effort to avoid eye contact with Prince Oberyn, who was constantly grinning and waggling his eyebrows at her whenever she happened to look his way. She found herself blushing with embarrassment and was very annoyed with him. She had spoken to Lady Nym earlier, relating her intimate encounter with the Viper, and Nym assured her that the prince did not have any inappropriate carnal interest for her, but found her to be very similar to his sand snake daughters, and as such, he was notorious for being a terrible tease to his loved ones. Oberyn was diverted by the wolf girl, and amused himself by making her feel uncomfortable at every opportunity, much to her dismay.

Arya tried to ignore the prince by focusing on her food. She had been raised on the hearty, but bland fare of the north – unseasoned meats and overcooked root vegetables for the most part. The foodstuffs of Dorne were much more colorful and well-seasoned, and Arya was acquiring a taste for the local cuisine. Specifically, the main spices used were fiery hot peppers, and the native inhabitants liked to boast that only those born in Dorne could tolerate the heat of the local dishes. Arya relished all the new flavors she was being exposed to in the dining hall of the Water Gardens.

Prince Oberyn was watching her closely, and observing her dipping thin segments of fried flatbread into a spicy sauce, called out to her languidly, “Lady Arya, from the way that I saw you trying to swallow young maester Arron’s tongue in the armory, I know that you are not an ice maiden as Northern women usually are, but I caution you that Dornish sauces may be too fiery even for such a passionate young woman such as yourself.”

Sarra, Nym, and other guests at the table looked her way and giggled with amusement, and Arya returned his gaze with a dark and angry countenance and retorted, “I have no fear of your spices, Viper, this sauce barely tickles my palate. We Northerners are hardier than you would believe.”

The playful prince rejoined, “In that case, why don’t you add some of that green paste on the plate at your elbow into your sauce, and tell me that you also find it to be of mild flavor.”

Arya knew that the paste was prepared from green chili peppers more potent than the red ones in her sauce, but defiantly spooned some into her bowl, mixed it in, scooped up a large amount with a piece of flatbread, and shoved it into her mouth. Still holding Prince Oberyn’s gaze, she said, “Warm, but not too intense for me. Mayhaps you will find it too strong for your delicate mouth, my lord,” and slid the dish down the table towards him.

With sparkling eyes, the Red Viper rose to the challenge and responded, “Oh, I do not fear this sauce,” and swallowed a large portion with a soup spoon. Then he countered, “But these sauces based on Jalapeño peppers are for weaklings. This sauce prepared from habanero peppers may be more to your liking.” He ate a scoop from a bowl of another red sauce and passed it to Arya, who had moved into a chair closer to him.

The wolf girl sampled the new sauce and commented, “Tasty,” but took a sip of water afterwards.

Prince Oberyn smiled, “You are tough, my lady, why not try this ghost pepper? It may turn you into a shade.” He took a bite of an oblong red pepper and passed the rest of it to Arya.

Arya looked at it dubiously, but bit into the pepper. With her mouth beginning to feel like Gendry’s forge, she painfully breathed, “Delicious, I must make a habit of eating this as an appetizer,” but she noticed that there were beads of sweat on the Viper’s forehead and he was sipping from his wineglass, and he was obviously trying to maintain his composure. She reached for her goblet of water again and added, “It did give me a mild thirst.” She was trying not to pass out at the table and her forehead was becoming damp also.

As the rivals stared at each other, Cook appeared. Word of the competition had reached the kitchens, and residents of the castle were gathering to witness the contest between the Viper and the wolf girl. Cook spoke to Prince Oberyn, “Milord, you might be interested to know that we just received a shipment of Morgula Scorpion peppers from the Summer Islands. They are quite delectable. Would you like to try this sauce I have prepared?”

The prince eyed the seemingly innocuous red sauce warily, and replied, “I will, if the lady will join me,” looking at Arya. She nodded, knowing that she could not back down at this point, but suspecting the worst. They each took a large spoonful and Oberyn said, “On the count of three. Ready? One. Two. Three!” They gulped down the potent mixture, waited a moment, and suddenly their eyes almost popped out of their heads as they jumped out of their chairs, screaming “Aaaaargh!”

With the entire dining hall following them, they rushed out to the nearest fountain and jumped in, trying desperately to clear the deadly concoction from their mouths. Choking and gasping, they drank copious amounts of water, until the intense heat faded, and soaking wet, with dripping hair, they stared at each other while breathing heavily. Finally, they joined the general laughter as the raucous assemblage hooted and cheered around them. Even Prince Doran was present, and he never laughed so hard in his life.

Arya started to smile and splashed Oberyn right in the face, causing him to cough and sputter. He responded by seizing her and pushing her head under the water. The girl came up sputtering, also, and the prince held her at a distance and said, “Enough, let us remove ourselves to our chambers and become presentable again. We have made ourselves look foolish enough in public for one night.”

As Sarra and Nym led Arya away, and Prince Oberyn left with his squires, the Viper turned and called back, “Wolf girl, you are the most entertaining person to ever join our court, and I hope we have the pleasure of your company for a long time!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Winterfell is calling.


	45. Winterfell – Catelyn Takes Charge

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 45 Winterfell – Catelyn Takes Charge

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The travelers adjusted to castle life, some returning to their normal routines, some adapting to their new home of Winterfell. Lady Stark focused on the young people who had arrived and was in the process of determining what actions were required for her new charges. First, though, she wanted to confront her lord husband about his approval of Arya’s trip to Dorne. She was most concerned about what Sansa had told her about Lady Nym, and was worried about Arya’s questionable behavior.

“Ned,” she asked, “Why did you allow Arya to go away to Dorne with this Lady Nymeria Sand? Sansa says that she is a hussy and will be a bad influence on our daughter.”

Ned looked pained, “Our Arya is an intelligent and determined girl and I trust her to make the right choices. Lady Ashara, who she respects immensely, had a serious talk with her about proper behavior for a highborn and the importance of protecting her maidenhead.”

At the mention of Arya’s septa, Cat’s temper flared, “Lady Ashara! So Arya is now the disciple of a wanton woman, and she also receives trusted advice from your former lover?! This does not please me! Tell me, lord husband, did you have _another_ tryst with her in Harrenhal? Is she still beautiful? I wager that you relished bedding her again! Mayhaps I will shut you out of my bedroom and you can entertain yourself with your memories of Lady Ashara!” and she strode off in a huff.

Ned quickly followed her, protesting his innocence, attempting to mollify his angry wife. The issue was no longer about Arya, but the rarely discussed unpleasant events that had marred their early married life. Catelyn eventually calmed down and accepted her husband’s apologies, but there was an ugly cloud of distrust between them for a few days, and Arya’s situation was forgotten for a while.

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Lady Catelyn summoned Gendry to her solar. She noted that the young smith appeared to have vigorously washed his face, shaved his rugged face closely, and changed into his best clothes. As she invited him to take a chair, he looked ill at ease, and nervously rubbed his hands on his breeches. Cat cast an imperious gaze his way and sternly told him, “Gendry, I am not sure if I approve of matching you with my daughter Sansa, even if my sentimental husband favors you. I know that if I forbid Sansa from seeing you, that action will only cause the two of you to start sneaking around. I will not interfere with your friendship. However, if you dishonor her, I will have you gelded and cast out into the snow to die.”

Gendry protested, “Milady, I would never dishonor Lady Sansa! I love your daughter and I intend to wed her. I believe that Lady Sansa has the same feelings for me.”

Cate ignored his remonstrations. She continued, “I am more inclined to match her with someone like Squire Adrian, who is also highborn, but Lady Sansa would be best wed to a young man of another Great House. In any case, Gendry, Lord Stark and I will wait until after the war to make any decision about Sansa’s betrothal. You say that you love each other. If you really intend to claim her for your bride, Gendry, you will have to prove to me that you deserve her by the time there is peace in the land again. You are dismissed.”

Crestfallen and worried Gendry left the solar and went to the forge. Smashing metal with a hammer was a good way to work out his frustrations as he reflected on his unpleasant interview with Lady Stark. _Lord Stark **did** tell me that it would not be easy to win his lady’s approval, and I certainly have my work cut out for me,_ he thought.

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Now Catelyn summoned Squire Adrian to her solar and greeted the highborn young man with a smile. She greeted him with a much warmer welcome than the one she had given Gendry. Cat inquired how he was adapting to Winterfell, and informed him that he could expect to have the benefit of a proper education designed to prepare him to be as good a lord as Ned Stark, beloved by his smallfolk and bannermen alike. He responded that both he and his father were pleased with Lord Stark’s invitation to be his ward. Cat added, “Squire Adrian, you are of an age to think about betrothals. Would your lord father want to make a match for you with a Northern House?”

The boy wore a surprised and confused expression, suggesting that he was unprepared for that question.

Lady Stark smiled, “My son Robb tells me that you had affection for my unconventional daughter Arya. Mayhaps you would like Lyanna Mormont, she is of a similar age to you, and has a nature like the so-called ‘wolf girl’. I intend to speak to her mother about fostering her at Winterfell, and you will have the opportunity to meet her.”

Squire Adrian appeared hesitant, and he did not meet her eyes.

Catelyn was puzzled, and asked, “Is something amiss?”

Adrian’s face reddened, and he quickly blurted out, with much embarrassment, “My Lady, I appreciate your concern, but I believe that I am in love with Jeyne Poole. Her friendship is one of the reasons that I was eager to come to Winterfell.”

Lady Stark rolled her eyes, thinking, _Sansa and Gendry, Adrian and Jeyne! How is it that only Arya, my rebellious daughter, intends to wed someone of her proper rank?_ She sighed and told the lad, “Adrian, I am sure that you are well aware that neither I nor your father would approve of your marriage to someone who is not highborn. You are young and there are no immediate decisions to be made. We will take up this discussion later. However, I hope you pursue friendships with the highborn maidens of Winterfell also. You may go.”

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Catelyn invited Meera Reed to her solar, greeting the girl with a warm smile. She noted uneasily that the girl was dressed for combat, even inside the castle. Her tunic was armored with bronze circles, her breeches were of boiled leather, and she had weapons tucked into her belt. Cat made a silent prayer to the gods, _By the Seven, I hope Meera is not the trial that Arya was for me!_ Lady Stark observed that the young huntress was not wearing borrowed boy’s clothes, but her outfit was specifically designed for her. “Lady Meera, it is conventional for highborn maidens to wear gowns in the castle.”

Shyly, Meera responded, “My lady, I am most comfortable in this attire, and it is most functional for me. I respectfully request that you allow me to continue to do so.”

Lady Stark tapped her fingers thoughtfully on her desk and said, “I will approve of your wish, Meera, if you agree to spend time with Lady Sansa and Septa Mordane without complaint, and become more familiar with the typical noble behavior.”

“I agree, my lady”, Meera replied more confidently, “but I would also like to study with your master-at-arms. My father approves of my interest of swordplay.”

Catelyn sighed and tried not to look too disturbed, but she could not ignore her frustration, thinking, _She **is** going to be a torment!_ The Lady of Winterfell carefully told her, “I will discuss sparring with my husband. I do not think there will be a problem. However, I will not allow it if you appear in the dining hall covered in bruises as my tomboy daughter Arya so often did, to my embarrassment.”

The young crannogwoman nodded and smiled in agreement.

There was another subject Catelyn wanted to broach. “Lady Meera, you have ten and five namedays, and most noble girls have been betrothed or wed by that age. What is your disposition towards marriage? Are you considering a match, as one would certainly be expected?”

Meera did not meet her eyes and only mumbled, “I had expected to return to Greywater Watch after staying here in Winterfell for a while.” The girl seemed to lose the confidence that she had previously possessed.

Catelyn responded, “Well, your parents sent you here to mingle with others of your station, and marriage is often the expected outcome of such companionship. That is how politically advantageous alliances between the Houses are forged. Lady Sansa has had thoughts on this subject for most of her young life and I recommend that you consult her.”

Lady Stark arranged education plans with the maester for the youngsters and also discussed Meera’s request with Ned and Ser Rodrik. Out of curiosity, she found the walkway where she could spy on the practice yard and see what Meera was doing there. She observed that she favored the shortsword, and only sparred with Bran, not any of the older boys. Catelyn saw that her ward, Theon Greyjoy, often tried to jape with her and get her attention, as he did with any female, but Meera studiously ignored him. Along with her brother, Jojen, who did not spar at all, Meera was obviously forming a strong bond with her shy younger son. Catelyn considered, _Bran may be young, but he might be a good match for Meera. Ned would be pleased, as he values House Reed very highly. I will have to write her parents and assess their disposition._

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In the armory, Master-at-arms Ser Rodrik Cassel met the new boys and Meera. He laughed loudly when he was told that ferocious little Arya had been the taskmaster in the Harrenhal training yard. He told the youths, “Aye, I wish I could see her development as a fighter. ‘Arya underfoot’ had been so eager to train with her brothers, but her lady mother forbad it. She was very disappointed.”

Squire Adrian replied, “Lady Arya has become skilled with the rapier and throwing knives. It was a sight to behold. She gave no mercy nor expected any herself when sparring.”

Ser Rodrik smiled, “Mayhaps someday I will have the honor of seeing her fight.”

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Gendry had gone to the Winterfell forge almost immediately after arriving at Winterfell. He met Mikken there and described his apprenticeship with Master Mott in King’s Landing. Mikken gave him some challenges in order to assess his skill level, and after a few days, informed Gendry that he had earned his new Master’s approval. Mikken started teaching the boy more of his craft. As they came to know each other better and become more familiar, Gendry mentioned that he had become acquainted with Lady Arya and had admired the beautiful sword that Mikken had forged for her. Mikken became sentimental and replied that he missed having 'Arya underfoot' around the smithy and hoped that she was happy wherever she was. Gendry shared some of the more humorous ‘wolf girl’ stories, and the older smith was quite entertained.

As her sister had suggested, Sansa visited the forge and observed Gendry at his work. Mikken welcomed her, although he wondered why she was there, for she had never shown _any_ interest in the forge previously. It soon became apparent that her interest was mainly in the handsome young man, and Mikken smiled to himself. Sansa showed Mikken the wolf brooch Gendry had made for her, and the master smith was very impressed as he admired it. “Gendry,” he said, “Mayhaps you would like to forge jewelry, as well as weaponry. You are obviously talented, and your creations would be greatly appreciated.” His eyes twinkled, “Making jewelry would even earn you much coin, and you would be the richest craftsman in the castle. You would have your pick of Winterfell’s maidens.” This comment did not seem to sit well with either Lady Sansa or Gendry, and Mikken realized that the pair was probably romantically involved. The startled smith pondered, _If Lady Catelyn is aware of affection between the boy and her daughter, she cannot be happy about it. I had best keep my own council!_

Mikken attempted to change what had become an awkward conversation, and told the girl, “Lady Sansa, I am flattered that you have come to visit us, and I must tell you that I miss your little sister. She was a constant attendant to the forge, and was curious about everything here. Of course, you are aware that she always had a love of weaponry, much to your lady mother’s dismay, and that interest brought her to the smithy.”

She smiled and replied, “I remember that Mother was often wroth with Arya’s tomboy behavior, much to the amusement of our brothers and Father, but Arya was stubborn, and could never be persuaded to change her ways.”

Gendry added, “Master Mikken taught her well. Lady Arya was quite well-informed and helped me often in the Harrenhal forge.”

Sansa turned to him and eyed him suspiciously, “Yes, Arya did spend an awful lot of time alone with you in the smithy.”

The boy blushed and looked away, thinking, _Did I put my foot in my mouth, **again**?!_

And Mikken thought, _Well, that didn’t help matters at all!_

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The maidens and kitchen staff of Winterfell quickly noticed the strong, handsome young smith and found reasons to visit him, bringing him food and drink, and inviting him for walks in the Godswood. Mikken soon learned that his was a complicated story. Although Gendry appeared to be simply an apprentice blacksmith and smallfolk, his rank actually bordered on nobility, being the oldest living bastard son of the deceased king. The master smith reflected, _No wonder Lord and Lady Stark are so concerned that there may be something going on between him and Lady Sansa._ The other maidens soon also realized why Gendry had shown no interest in them. Disappointed, they told each other, “Gendry is under the spell of Lady Sansa! Pretty Sansa always gets the male attention!”

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Gendry was quite pleased with his new life at Winterfell. He enjoyed lessons with Maester Luwin, who was an excellent and patient tutor, and he loved his camaraderie with the animated youths of the castle while in the classroom. His knowledge of sums and letters improved, and he liked the subject of history. He found that he was curious to learn about the noble Baratheons, now that he realized that _he_ was part of the story. Gendry was amazed and delighted by the friendly, happy younger smallfolk of Winterfell. Growing up in poverty-stricken Flea Bottom, he had little interaction with the hungry, abused, and suspicious children, who learned early that responding to the friendly face of a stranger often led to a beating, rape, or kidnapping. The children of Winterfell, even among the smallfolk, were generally well-fed and loved. Lady Catelyn made it her business to see that any orphaned children in the castle or in the nearby village of Wintertown were adopted as soon as possible. The younger children found the tall, smiling apprentice smith fascinating, and followed him around when he was in the courtyard, demanding to be carried on his shoulders, shrieking with delight for being so high above the ground. Little Beth Cassel, the precocious eight-year-old daughter of Ser Rodrik, Winterfell’s master-at-arms, declared that Gendry was her big, friendly giant, and she was going to marry him when she was a woman grown.

Gendry interacted with the three Stark brothers and Theon Greyjoy in the classroom and the training yard, and they were rough but friendly with him. The older boys were not quite sure what to think of Gendry, recalling that _both_ Stark sisters had a romantic interest in him, and they did not want to think of him embracing and kissing the girls, mayhaps becoming more intimate with them, as coarse Theon suggested. The boys didn’t know how to process that fact, but it did inspire them to spar with more vigor when faced with the lad in question.

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Lord Stark finally made arrangements to have a council meeting with his bannerman. Ravens were sent, and the lords of the North began to appear. Ned had spoken to Lords Glover, Tallhart, and Cerwyn on his journey north, and they were the first to arrive. Important bannermen such as wealthy Lord Wylis Manderly of White Harbor, Maege Mormont, the Lady of Bear Island, an imposing warrior woman, Lord Rickard Karstark of Karhold, said to be a distant Stark relative, arrived, and were greeted warmly. Most welcome was the huge and cheerful Greatjon Umber, Lord of the Last Hearth, the most loyal House of all Stark bannermen. Lord Howland Reed did not come, but his children, Jojen and Meera represented him. Rodrik Ryswell, Lord of the Rills, attended, along with Chief Torghen Flint, known as the Old Flint, representing the mountain clans who lived in the snow-covered mountains below the Wall, and were more like Wildings than typical Northmen. Ned saw Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, slinking around, but he seemed to be keeping his own counsel, and did not venture to speak to anyone. Lord Bolton was known to flay prisoners, and was not a very popular man.

A delicious dinner had been prepared, and the wine was flowing. Many of the lords had brought their ladies, and the mood was very festive.

After dinner, Ned called for order, and after the nonessential guests left the hall, he began to explain the politics down south. “My loyal bannermen, as you know, I only could be persuaded to leave the North and travel to King’s Landing at the express request of King Robert Baratheon, my oldest friend and comrade in arms. Robert begged me to be his Hand, saying that Westeros was in danger and he needed my help. However, that journey resulted in one missing daughter, and extreme danger threatening my life and that of my other daughter. We ended up fleeing for our lives, and we lost many valued guardsmen fighting our way home.”

He paused for that information to sink in.

Ned continued darkly, “I suspect that the ruthless Lannisters arranged Robert’s death, and used the opportunity for seizing control of the government of the Kingdom.”

There was general murmuring, and loud voice shouted, “Must we travel to the Crownlands and teach those upstart Lions the lesson they deserve?”

“If we were to venture to King’s Landing to confront the Lannisters, our supply lines would be extended too far, and we would be most vulnerable,” Lord Stark responded. “Fortunately, as it turns out, this is not our battle. Prince Aegon Targaryen has arrived from Essos with a sellsword army, determined to defeat his natural enemy, and reclaim the Iron Throne.”

The announcement of the return of a Targaryen ruler set the tongues wagging again.

“Tywin Lannister’s allies only include a few lords of the Stormlands, and the Tyrells of the Reach, whereas Prince Aegon can count lords of the Crownlands and the Dornish army as his supporters. King Robert’s brothers want to avenge his death, and they may join the battle also. The North may not have to do anything but wait until the smoke clears,” Ned told them.

Mors Umber, the Greatjon's uncle, asked, “And if this Targaryen prince wins, what then? Will the North bend the knee to him?”

The Northern lords began talking loudly amongst themselves. Traditionally independent, they had always chafed under the ruler on the Iron Throne.

Ned called for order and addressed his bannermen again, knowing that this conversation was the most important one. “I have met this Prince Aegon, who only has ten and five namedays, and I can tell you that I approve of him. The lad has a pleasant and sympathetic nature, and is well-loved by his bannermen, soldiers, and smallfolk alike. Aegon has many of the ‘good Targaryen’ qualities, and no indication of the ‘Targaryen madness’, such as we suffered under King Aerys. If he does have a fault, it is that he is not foremost a bloodthirsty warrior, but a musician and poet much like his father, Rhaegar.” He stopped for effect, and saw that the lords were listening attentively.

Now he gazed seriously at the assemblage, briefly making eye contact with each major bannermen, and asking rhetorically, “Should the North bend the knee or seek independence? Well, I suggest that we accept Aegon as our king if he defeats the Lannisters, for the North will have a stake in the government of the Kingdom.”

He paused for effect, and with every eye on him, announced, “Prince Aegon has informed all his supporters that his queen shall be none other than Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell.”

Lady Catelyn, standing beside her husband, smiled broadly, while pandemonium broke out in the hall. The lords who knew the younger Stark daughter well were shouting, “‘Arya underfoot’ for queen!” The rest were hooting, laughing, and stamping their feet, and of course, as Northmen often do, making rude comments. It was obvious that they were most pleased to hear this surprising statement. Servants were rushing out to inform the rest of the castle staff of the astounding news.

The Greatjon Umber, the huge and boisterous bannerman fondest of Arya, had taught her cyvasse, carried her on his shoulders, and unknown to her lady mother, also taught her many swear words and ribald stories, loudly demanded of his leader, “Lord Stark, how came it that your wild and unruly wolf child of a daughter won the heart of a Targaryen prince, and not the beautiful and demure Lady Sansa? She cannot possess more than ten and one namedays in any case!”

Facing his grinning friends, Ned explained, “It is actually an interesting tale to be told at length at another time, but suffice it to say that the prince met Arya under some rather unusual circumstances and they formed a strong friendship. It appears that Prince Aegon has a weakness for our tomboy, and eventually he demanded of his Hand, Lord Jon Connington, to be betrothed to her. Lord Connington _and_ Arya both tried to talk him out of his strange obsession, but he was firm, insisting that he loved our wild child, and to prove his point, after a time, even convinced the wolf girl that she should wed him after the war.”

The Greatjon laughed, “Ha! A queen with mud on her face and wearing boy’s breeches! That will be a sight to see!”

Lord Ned smiled and added, “Strangely enough, with Arya by his side Aegon will be a better king. Lord Connington and I have observed them at lessons with the maester and sparring in the training yard of Harrenhal, and there is no doubt that they work very well together. Arya is smart and not afraid to say what is on her mind, and the prince readily welcomes her ideas. If they _do_ become the rulers of Westeros, you will see some amazing changes.”

Now Lord Umber faced the other lords near him and announced, “I have no objection to bending the knee to a Targaryen king who worships a Northern lass! What say you, my brothers?! Raise your cup if you agree!”

The company turned to Ned, and lifting their goblets high, shouted, “A toast! A toast to Prince Aegon and the next Queen of Westeros - the wolf girl of the North, ‘Arya underfoot’ of Winterfell!”

Ned nodded sagely, “So we are agreed. We will see how this drama plays out, and if he conquers the Lannisters, we will once again bend the knee to a Targaryen king. I pray for his success.” The toasting and discussion continued until it was time for sleep.

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The next day, Lady Stark invited Lady Mormont to her solar. Catelyn, the most proper lady, was quite ill at ease in the presence of the Lady of Bear Island. Lady Maege was a large woman, not fat, but muscular and imposing, built more like a strong man than a typical noblewoman. However, the older woman possessed an immense bosom, which always seemed to be falling out of her low-cut tunic or gown, and she was coarse of speech, much like the soldiers that she was most comfortable with. What frightened Cat the most was that Lady Maege had several weapons thrust into her belt. She was known to have a quick temper, and Lady Stark was afraid of her response if offended. However, the Mormonts of Bear Island had always been one of Winterfell’s most loyal bannermen, so Cat greeted her with a friendly demeanor.

After offering Lady Maege a seat and pouring her a cup of tea from a beautiful porcelain tea service, Lady Stark spoke, “Lady Mormont, I would like to encourage you to send one of your daughters to Winterfell for a proper education, and to meet other noble youths. We are fond of your family and would be honored to have it represented in our halls. It would also be a good experience for one of your children.”

Lady Mormont looked thoughtful and replied, “That might be a good idea, and I thank you for your invitation. Bear Island is so isolated and I would like to see one of my daughters have more of a connection with the outside world. You know my children, who would you think would be best?”

Lady Stark replied, “I was thinking of Lyanna. At ten and two, she is of an age with my Sansa, and the right age to make the most of the opportunity. She is intelligent and has a curious nature, and would benefit from lessons with the maester and the septa.” She paused and added with a smile, “There is also the possibility of a match, and I have someone in mind.”

The Lady of Bear Island appeared more interested now and responded, “Aye, I approve of lessons in sums and letters with a superior Winterfell maester, but I also want my daughter to have weapons training with your illustrious Master-at-arms as well. Bear Island women fight as well as men.”

Cat tried not to let her face show disapproval. _What is it with all the warrior women I seem to keep having to deal with?!_ She thought.

“And you say that you have been considering a match for Lyanna?” Lady Maege asked, “She is quite young and I have not thought on that matter, but mayhaps you have the right of it, being my liege lady and aware of such things. I would have to meet the young man in question, though.”

“Of course,” Lady Stark smiled, “Why don’t we take a walk?” She led Maege to the walkway over the training yard where Squire Adrian happened to be sparring with Theon.

Maege inspected Adrian critically and turned to Cat with a frown, “That lad appears to be a milquetoast! He is small and skinny and does not seem to spar with much fire. I wonder if he is man enough for a Mormont woman!” Then she smiled and japed, “I fear that my Lyanna would break him in twain on their wedding night! Mayhaps there is another who might suffice.” She indicated Theon, “That other boy looks like one who might survive a tumble in bed with a she-bear! Lady Stark, I would like to meet him!”

Now Cat rolled her eyes and thought, _The Seven help me, I am a failure at matchmaking!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Back to Arya’s amorous adventures in Dorne.


	46. Arya and Oberyn

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inappropriate but expected activity, due to chemistry between Arya and Oberyn.
> 
> There must be something in the water in Dorne, as another pair succumb to lust.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 46 Arya and Oberyn

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Since the hot pepper contest, the rapport between Arya and Oberyn increased. They japed frequently, and were more informal with each other, but Oberyn sensed that Arya’s behavior had changed to one that was subtly seductive, as though she was playing one of Lady Nym’s games. The prince was not sure what her goal was.

Prince Oberyn’s squires included some of the most important youths in Dorne, such Mors and Dickon Manwoody of Kingsgrave, and Daemon Sand of House Allyrion of Godsgrace. Even Arron’s eldest brother, Gulian, the heir of House Qorgyle of Sandstone, had been a squire for the Red Viper. Arya sparred frequently and became friends with the older boys and lunched with them daily. The squires secretly called her ‘Squire Teats’, but admired the she-wolf’s spirit, since she seemed unconcerned with the bruises she constantly acquired during training. If anyone made mention of the purple welts on her arms and legs, she routinely replied, “My ‘dancing master’ told me that ‘Every hurt is a lesson, and every lesson makes you better’”.

Oberyn listened to the youths’ conversations, and realized that Arya was smart and quite knowledgeable about military history and tactics. She would tell ribald stories and spoke coarsely in the manner she had learned around soldiers’ campfires. The prince wryly reflected, _The wolf girl fits right in with my students._

For several months Arya continued her spear training, spending less time on her other areas of concentration as she took advantage of the Viper’s presence at the Water Gardens. There was much sparring, and instruction was now focused on footwork, and more complex parrying and attacks. Arya subtly used the opportunity to tempt Oberyn. The girl left the top buttons of her tunic open, revealing her small but shapely cleavage, and her breeches were tight and tiny covering her lower body, leaving little to the imagination concerning her figure. The squires japed that she was doing it on purpose to distract them and they were wise to her antics, although they enjoyed the show. Oberyn was more wary and suspicious. In the dining hall, Arya would sit next to him, placing her hand on his forearm when she addressed him, laughed at his japes, and focused her sensuous wide grey eyes on him. Nym and Sarra noticed that Arya was giving Oberyn more attention, assumed that she was practicing their lessons in seduction, but were not comfortable with her choice of quarry.

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Arya’s ten and second nameday arrived with congratulatory ravens from her father and Aegon. Soon afterwards, a more important event occurred. As Lady Nym had predicted, Arya’s first moon blood arrived, and Lady Nym and Sarra explained how her body was changing and what she would have to do about it. They gave her a book to read, imported from the Free Cities, called _Our Bodies, Ourselves_ , actually written by a female healer, considered scandalous and banned in Westeros, and discussed the content with her. The wolf girl was pleased that she was a woman grown now, but she thought some changes were just plain gross. The older girls organized a small dinner party for her, inviting their present beaus. Arya wore Sarra’s green silk robes that complemented her developing figure. She applied her own makeup, her long chestnut hair was loose and brushed to a shiny luster, and she wore her sand snake arm bracelet, Aegon’s necklace, and Gendry’s direwolf brooch.

Lady Nym gave her a set of delicate lacy smallclothes, designed for a fuller figure, but Nym smiled impishly, “You will grow into them by the time of your wedding.”

A grinning Sarra gave her a sheer nightie also intended for her wedding night, saying, “I know how much Prince Aegon enjoys seeing you in such attire.” Arya blushed as she accepted the intimate gifts.

Prince Oberyn had a six foot long spear made for her which was as lethal as the standard eight foot model, but was far easier for the budding sand snake to manipulate. Arron gave her a history book about the warrior queen Nymeria of the Rhoyne, who wed a Martell lord and helped him defeat his rivals and become the ruler of Dorne. The boy was uncomfortable with the discussion of Arya’s eventual marriage to Prince Aegon, as it only reminded him that he would soon have to leave her. Arron’s enrollment date at the Citadel was fast approaching and he had been preparing to travel.

After dinner, Oberyn made to leave the hall, but first he embraced his daughter, and then went to kiss Arya on the cheek. However, as he did so, she turned her head and kissed him full on the mouth, sliding her tongue over his lips. The Viper was startled and did not return the intimacy, but left abruptly.

Later, in a private hallway, Oberyn confronted her, asking, “Wolf girl, what do you want from me?”

Arya smiled provocatively and replied, “I want to explore the strong feelings I have for you. Although you are thrice my age, I am attracted to you and I do not understand why.” She boldly moved closer to embrace him, looked deeply into his eyes, and again brought her lips to his.

The passionate Dornishman could not resist: she appeared so inviting and he _was_ fascinated by her. He kissed her intensely, snaking his tongue into her mouth, and his hands slid up and down her back, finally settling on her arse, squeezing the firm globes of her bottom. Arya eagerly responded to his kiss, her tongue danced with his, and she pressed her breasts against his chest and her mound against his groin. Her hands were first on his back, raking it with her nails, then moved to the front of his body. She pulled herself back just far enough to slide her hands down his stomach, and then caressed his privates. Even with his sex encased in silk, she smiled as she learned that he had become very aroused, and she began to stroke his cock.

The Viper moaned and had the impulsive urge to strip her clothing off immediately. He had the irresistible desire to see her naked and to take her violently on the spot. But he forced his mind to focus and reminded himself that she was a maiden. Once again, he reflected on his good-brother Rhaegar’s obsession with a Stark woman, and he did not understand what had come over him. Oberyn did not want to take advantage of the girl, but Arya exuded the confidence and boldness of a woman grown, and even seemed to be demanding that he increase their intimacy. The prince grit his teeth and decided that he would _not_ take her maidenhead, so he broke the kiss and told her with some urgency in his voice, “Arya! This is wrong! We must stop!”

Arya smirked at him, “Why? I know that you desire me. I can see lust in your eyes. Why cannot we take pleasure in each other’s company?”

“You are far too young and there is the danger I may take your maidenhead if we continue in this fashion!”

“I trust you not to lose control, and besides, I am not too young - Sarra started fucking when she had only ten and three namedays, and Lady Nym was not much older when she started,” the she-wolf replied confidently.

Oberyn took a deep breath to recover his composure. He looked around and observed that they were standing in a hallway connected to the dining hall that contained guest chambers used during feasts and parties. The rooms were kept clean and fresh, ready for unexpected guests. He broke their embrace and grabbed her hand, saying, “Come with me.” He took her into a chamber, noted the featherbed, and lit a few candles. Then he turned and locked the door. Arya was looking at him expectantly. He led her to the bed and swiftly and expertly unwound her sand snake arm bracelet, loosened and removed her robes and smallclothes, and stood staring at her bare body. The wolf girl had a petite, but well-proportioned frame, like a miniature version of Sarra or even Nym. Her breasts were small and round, and Aegon’s garnet lay between them, twinkling in the candlelight, exactly in the middle between her small, pointed raspberry teats. Her pale Northern skin had become olive in the strong Dornish sun, but was marred by bruises on her arms and legs, including one large purple splotch over her right rib cage, acquired while sparring. As he gazed, she spread her legs slightly in invitation, and reached out to loosen his robes and push them off his shoulders. When she attempted to remove his smallclothes, he grabbed her hands and shook his head ‘no’.

The prince gathered her body to his, leaned down and resumed the passionate kiss they had shared in the hallway. When she became limp in his arms, he lay her down on the bed and moved his mouth from her lips to her throat and then down to suckle one of her breasts, palming the other in his hand and pinching the stiff teat with his fingertips. He gently bit the other teat with his teeth, and she began to moan. He slid his free hand to cover her mound and his long skillful fingers lingered over her slit, which had become very moist. Her legs fell apart at his touch, and his hand first spread the damp folds before two of his fingers slid inside and began to massage her passage as his thumb rubbed her sensitive nub. Arya groaned louder and moved her legs even further apart, inviting him to delve deeper.

He saw that her eyes were closed, her head was thrown back, and her hands were lost in his hair. He gently kissed his way down her belly and then began to kiss the insides of her thighs, starting from the knees, slowly moving toward her sex, which appeared so welcoming.

Arya’s eyes opened and she tapped his shoulders. Oberyn looked up and she captured his gaze. “You are going to give me the Lord’s Kiss, aren’t you?” she asked hopefully.

He looked at her and nodded.

She leaned back again and her eyes closed. “Excellent!” she sighed.

Now Oberyn started kissing her center in earnest, determined to bring her to a swift and intense climax. The prince was a master at this procedure, and he was successful with the sensitive young girl. Arya screamed and thrashed in her release, and then fell back sighing and breathing heavily. The Viper stood up and observed her satiated body. She was as beautiful as the Maiden herself, and it took all his will power not to penetrate her wet and tempting center immediately with his throbbing member.

As if she was reading his thoughts, Arya reached into his smallclothes and took hold of his cock. He looked startled and she said, “Cannot I give you the Lady’s Kiss?”

Oberyn was speechless and frozen in place as she swiftly pushed his smallclothes down his legs and leaned in to take his cock into her mouth, recalling Sarra’s instructions. He groaned as she palmed his sac with one hand, squeezed the base of his cock with the other, and sucked on the length of his member. Oberyn had been so filled with lust for the girl that he decided to just let go. He closed his eyes, thrust one time into her mouth and came instantly. He groaned loudly and collapsed next to her on the bed.

In a moment he rolled onto his back, and Arya immediately grabbed his limp wet cock gently, inspecting it closely. He looked at her, and asked, “What are you looking for?”

“I wanted to see the famous organ that has known so many women, and now I have an intimate knowledge of it. It does not appear much different than other cocks I have known, but it obviously must have more experience,” the bold girl ventured.

Oberyn saw a basin of water on a small table and a stack of towels. He got up and took the opportunity to clean himself and Arya. She watched him gently wash and wipe first his sex and then hers, and she said, “Thank you, my lord.”

He started to dress himself and offered her the clothing that he had eagerly ripped from her nubile body earlier. “Lady Arya, let us remove ourselves to our chambers and accept that we have satisfied our curiosity. We must not repeat this performance. I am your mentor and you are my student, and we cannot become lovers. We must keep that distinction clear.”

Arya nodded, but actually looked disappointed. He took her hand, and led her out into the main part of the castle, steering her towards her own chambers, and finally bidding her goodnight at her door after kissing her on the top of her head.

He entered his own chamber, closed the door and leaned back against it, thinking, _What have I done?! I must be mad! Is the she-wolf so seductive that I could not control myself? I do not understand what has happened to me!_ The Red Viper was very confused.

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Arya entered her chambers, obviously disheveled, and told an inquisitive Lady Nym what had happened. At her first opportunity, the Sand Snake found Oberyn and accused, “My lord father, what _are_ you doing with Arya?”

Oberyn had never looked so distressed. He found it difficult to meet Nym’s eyes. Slowly he explained, “I believe that Rhaegar loved my sister Elia dearly, but I always wondered why my good-brother was also attracted to the Stark woman. I see in Arya what probably enticed the prince – Northern beauties seem to have a fierce independence that make them irresistible to men. They cannot truly be possessed, but deign to share their spirit for a time. I am solely trying to be her mentor, but Arya makes it impossible to ignore that she is an extremely alluring young woman, despite her tender years. Daughter, you have never been as successful with a disciple as you have been with Lady Arya.”

Lady Nym nodded seriously, “I suspected as much when I first took her under my wing, and I have observed her boldness and unquenchable curiosity. I can only imagine what she will be like when she is a woman grown.”

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As Arron’s departure date approached, Arya spent less time in the orange grove kissing him. They were both trying to get used to their inevitable separation. As they reclined on their towel, munching on segments of blood orange, Arron appeared to be very sad. Arya spoke up and considered, “It is a shame that maesters can’t marry. I think they should have the right to do so, it will help them comprehend ordinary people better. I am going to ask Maester Caleotte about this matter.”

The wolf girl confronted Maester Caleotte, and he replied, “It is believed that maesters must have a single focus and no distractions. That is why ideally they are celibate.”

Arya responded, “But high lords and kings have many responsibilities and still have a family life. I think that if maesters had families, they would understand the people they are serving better.”

Maester Caleotte answered with a platitude, “Generations of tradition have deemed otherwise. Novices are always urged to accept their fate or leave the Citadel.”

The she-wolf bit her lip, stating firmly, “I will change that tradition when I become queen.”

The maester was intrigued by his forthright student, “You really intend to challenge the council of Grand Maesters in Oldtown?”

“Aye, I will also demand that the Citadel begin the practice of training female maesters.”

Maester Caleotte shook his head, “They will not be receptive to your revolutionary ideas.”

Arya presented him with a dark and dangerous visage, narrowing her eyes, “They will listen to me or they will regret it.”

Returning to Arron later, she recounted her conversation with the maester.

When she was done, Arron replied, “Arya, you are smart enough to become a maester yourself. It is a shame that the Citadel does not admit girls.”

Arya frowned and said, “That is going to change when I become queen.”

Arron’s eyes went wide, “You are serious about becoming queen?!”

“I am so tired of men making stupid decisions that I want the power to make smart ones. Aegon has said that we would do great things together, and confronting the Citadel is on top of my list.”

Arron looked impressed and amazed.

Arya’s continued, “The only useful thing that I ever heard Queen Cersei say was ‘Why is the possession of a cock the sole requirement for ruling a country? Cocks are naturally stupid!’” She paused, and then finished her declaration, “Well it’s time for someone without a cock to take charge again.”

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Finally, Arron attended his last dinner at the Water Gardens. On the morrow he would travel to Sunspear and board a ship for Oldtown. Arya and Arron publically shared an embrace and a chaste kiss, saying farewell until the next morning. On the walk back to their chambers, Arya noticed that Sarra was eying her with an impish grin, implying that she had a mischievous idea. “What?” she inquired of the older girl.

Sarra replied with a wicked smile, “I think that young Arron deserves a worthy sendoff. I am going to visit his chamber tonight, disguised as you, and ring his bells.”

Arya looked doubtful, “I don’t think that he will really mistake you for me in his arms.”

Sarra laughed, “Does it really matter? Now tell me how well I can imitate your voice.”

Appropriately, during the Hour of the Wolf, Sarra slipped into Arron’s chamber, dropped her cloak, and climbed into his bed in complete darkness. Her hair was unbound, and she wore a sheer nightgown and no smallclothes. She embraced the boy and softly pressed her lips against his mouth.

Arron awoke at her touch, but he was bleary-eyed and only partially conscious. “Wha’?” he croaked with a confused voice.

“I can’t bear to have you leave without one more kiss, Arron,” Sarra replied in a plaintive voice, imitating a needy Arya, as she often heard her in the orange grove begging for Arron’s amorous attention, “I will miss you so much and this is our last opportunity to show each other affection.” Then she boldly kissed him, sliding her tongue into his mouth and using her natural talent for inflaming his desire. She pressed her breasts and mound against him, grinding and rotating. Her hands moved to push his smallclothes down, and she was pleased to feel that he was extremely aroused. Arron had started to respond to her advances, and she subtly encouraged him to change positions and climb on top of her.

Arron was now awake, but his mind was muddled. “Arya, is that really you?”

“Yes,” a breathy voice replied, “Arron, I need you so badly! Please show me that you care!”

His hands were fondling her breasts and he was pressing his member against her mound, but he was still disoriented. _The voice is Arya’s,_ he thought, _but the breasts are too large._ He explored the girl’s body a bit more and concluded, _Her hair is long, but not quite long enough, and her arse is larger, too._ Arron boldly slipped his fingers between her legs, and as she moaned, he became convinced, _Arya’s slit is tighter! Who could it be? I’ll wager that it is Sarra underneath me! This type of mischief is her style of humor!_

As Arron pondered, Sarra wasted no more time. Placing the head of his cock against her entrance, she moaned, “Arron, _please_ take me now! I can’t stand the torture anymore!” and with both hands on his arse, pulled him deeply into her sex.

Arron gasped. In truth, he was a maiden, and had never had such a delightful feeling in all his life. Instinctively, he began thrusting and withdrawing, again and again, matching the rhythm of Sarra’s writhing body underneath him. He closed his eyes and moaned, “Arya, _Arya,_ I want you too! Oh, this is heavenly! I could die right now!”

Sarra let out a very Arya-like chuckle and replied, “Don’t you dare die on top of me, I’ll be stuck here forever!” With that said, she pushed him over, and without breaking contact, straddled his body, riding him like a horse, and bringing both of them to a frenzied climax. Sarra screamed “Oh gods!” as she came and squeezed his cock, imbedded deep inside of her.

“Aargh! Oh gods! Oh gods! Arya, I love you!” Arron shouted, as he explosively spilled his seed inside the hot, wet channel, pressing into Sarra with a force that he thought might split the girl in twain.

She rolled off of him, panting heavily, and lightly kissed his mouth. It was still too dark to see anything. Sarra purred, “Did you like that? Do you think you will remember me now?”

“I will never forget you as long as I live, Arya, and I will love you forever!” the boy passionately declared, but as he reached out to embrace her, he realized that she was gone. Arron fell back on his bed and sighed, _Did that really happen? It was like magic!_

The next morning, Arron prepared to mount his horse for the ride to Sunspear. He embraced Arya, who wore an innocent expression, and kissed the top of her head. “Mayhaps we will meet again, but I will always treasure our time together in the Water Gardens. Stay well, Arya. I will miss you.” But looking over her head, he noticed Sarra had fixed him with a wicked smile, and he winked at the saucy girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Several readers have been asking what Aegon has been doing. We will address that question in the next chapter.


	47. Correspondence: Aegon and Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers – I am sorry for the hiatus, but two weeks ago I was in a serious auto accident, totaled my car, and my imagination was uncomfortably grounded in cruel reality. It took me a while to regain admittance to my fantasy world again. I hope I have recovered my vision.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 47 Correspondence: Arya and Aegon

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Golden Company did not leave Harrenhal immediately after the Dornish party left, and Aegon found himself moping around, missing the company of his favorite companion and her direwolf. _I realize now that life really is more interesting when I am with Arya,_ Aegon sighed to himself, _I hope that she writes to me soon._

Aegon’s brooding took him to the Harrenhal kitchen, which had been a favorite destination for the young couple. Cook smiled at him, gave him an apple tart, and asked, “Your grace, has there been any word from the little wolf princess?”

The sentimental prince smiled softly and sighed, “No, not yet. I miss her and hope that she sends a raven soon.”

Cook replied, “Lady Arya is missed here in the kitchen and elsewhere in the castle. She was a friend to the smallfolk and was always a spot of sunshine on a rainy day.”

Wistfully, Aegon reflected, _Arya is a friend to everyone wherever she goes._

“Beg your pardon, your grace,” Cook continued, “but the smallfolk of the castle and the Golden Company hope that she will become your queen, because they know that they will have a friend at court, someone that will look after their interests.”

“Don’t you consider me a friend, also?” Aegon queried in response.

“Aye, your grace, your kind heart is appreciated, but you must be stern if you are to be an effective king, and a wolf queen would treat the smallfolk of Westeros as if they were her own children.”

“I see,” Aegon considered, thinking of Arya’s attitude toward the lives of the simple folk, and recalling how her father had taught her to have compassion for their subjects.

Cook added with a grin, “And the castle staff already has imagined that your children will brighten everyone’s lives wherever you are.”

Aegon blushed at the suggestion of Arya presenting him with children. “I expect that may not happen for a long time, if we are blessed for that event to occur at all.”

“Your servants in the kitchen are convinced it will come to pass and look forward to it.”

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Arya’s first letter from the Water Garden:

_Dear Aegon – I am finally in Dorne after months at sea, and Prince Doran, the ruler of Dorne, was nice enough to offer his Maester and ravens to me so I could send you a letter. I am well after the long journey, and Nymeria and I really miss you. I hope you are well and being careful if you have been fighting. Please write to me and send your letters to Sunspear._

__

__

_I had so much fun on the ship, The Red Cloud, and I hope we can go to sea together someday. The captain and many of the sailors were nice to me and taught me how a large sailing ship operates. Captain Salladhar was like a maester and taught me about navigation, which is a lot like our sums lessons with Haldon. I studied seamanship beside his apprentice, Nestor, who taught me how to use the stars for navigation at night in the crow’s nest._

Aegon stopped reading, rolled his eyes, and groaned, _A young sailor named Nestor, sitting alone with her at night in the privacy of the crow’s nest? I wonder what **else** he was teaching her besides the stars?_ The prince vividly remembered how Bokko would brush his hands over Arya’s cute arse as he trained her, and how his oblivious student, so focused on the lesson, merely smiled at him.

 _I better not appear jealous when I write back to her,_ Aegon thought, _Arya was always wroth with me when I displayed jealousy, snapping that I was stupid._ His attention returned to the letter.

_But the most exciting thing that happened on the voyage was that I learned that I am a warg and can enter Nymeria’s mind without speaking. I even entered the mind of a sea jester and went for a ride over the waves! It was like traveling through the ocean on horseback!_

Aegon’s eyes widened, _Imagine that! Arya is a warg! That is amazing!_

_We stopped in Tyros, one of the Free Cities of Essos, and Lady Nym took Sarra and me to visit a fabulous House of Pleasure. Now I have a really good idea what one looks like and what happens there._

Aegon was startled again. _A House of Pleasure? ‘What happens there’? Bold Arya always wants to participate! What did she do there? Maybe I don’t want to know!_

_We finally landed in Sunspear, and that is where Lady Nym introduced me to her uncle, Prince Doran. Although it is unbearably hot most of the time, I love it here in Dorne because women are equal to men! Women wear swords and no one criticizes! Princess Arianne will inherit the throne, and even the royal treasurer is a lady! Because the climate is so warm, both sexes wear comfortable silk robes, and women are not confined to stupid gowns and dresses._

_Lady Nym says that my sand snake training will get more serious now. I am sparring more with a Westerosi shortsword and eventually will learn to fight with a sword in each hand. Nym will continue to help improve my knife throwing skills and later show me how to throw from horseback. And I’m most excited about learning how to fight with a spear! Nym’s father, Prince Oberyn, has invited me to join his squires for lessons!_

_I have not neglected my other studies. Prince Doran’s maester is very smart and is teaching me a new way to use numbers. He calls it geometry and trigonometry and he says that I am a quick learner. Maester Caleotte has another student who is as smart as me and we share lessons and assignments. His name is Arron Qorgyle of Sandstone and he is preparing to go to the Citadel soon to earn his maester chains. Arron is around my age and we have been using this new science to build and test model catapults. I can’t wait so show you how we can aim and fire projectiles into King’s Landing when I meet you at the siege! Mayhaps we can drop a boulder on Cersei or that shit king, Joffrey!_

Aegon stopped reading again, leaned back and sighed, _I shouldn’t be surprised. Arya always finds male companions to share activities. I suppose that I should not be jealous, but I can’t help it if I am!_ Again, he returned to the letter.

_I have had time for fun, also. Prince Doran took us to his favorite palace, the Water Gardens, where it is shaded and cool, and there are many pools and fountains to play in. Even Nymeria likes it here because she can cool off in the water and chase coneys. Now that she is home, Lady Nym has been very busy, and Sarra is my constant companion. Sarra introduced me to her friends and we play games in the pools like tag and jousting. I have always loved swimming, so it has been wonderful. Arron is my mount when water jousting and Sarra has a squire named Perros, who she met when she was last at the Water Gardens, as her mount. After swimming we usually have a picnic in the orange grove – the blood oranges are sweet and delicious!_

_There is one thing that concerned me at first. Because it is so hot here, all the children play naked in the pools. I was embarrassed at first because my breasts have started to grow larger (I can’t wait for you to see and touch them! I love the feeling when they are handled!) and the boys all stare at me. But now, like Sarra, I’m totally used to it, and being naked in public doesn’t bother me anymore._

Now Aegon was sputtering and his eyes were flashing, _Swimming naked in the pools! Sitting naked on a boy’s shoulders! Having picnics in orange groves with seductive Sarra and two boys! What **else** was this Arron doing? Probably fondling her breasts! I can’t stand it!_ The prince threw the letter across the table and stalked around the tent, wanting to hit something with all his might. Finally, he picked up the letter again.

_Well, Maester Caleotte is on his way to the rookery to send some letters, so I will wrap it up and give this to him. I have also taken the opportunity to write to Father at Winterfell, and my brother Jon at the Wall. Lady Nym is waiting in the training yard, so I better hurry and go join her there. Stay safe and don’t do anything stupid. I want the opportunity to fight by your side so we can defeat the Lannisters together._

_Love,_

_Arya_

The prince was sweating and distraught when he finished. _And she tells **me** not to do anything stupid! I love that girl, but she makes me crazy!_

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Aegon received Arya’s letter while he was on the kingsroad to join the advance guard, and responded soon afterwards:

_Dearest Arya – I am pleased that you had an exciting voyage through the Narrow Sea and have arrived safely in Dorne. I miss you and look forward to seeing you again and I am very interested in what you have been learning about siege warfare. That will be very useful when we meet up again outside of King’s Landing._

_However, I must admit that I am concerned about some of the contents of your letter. I don’t want to appear to scold, but I am uncomfortable with your statement that you ‘love the feeling when your breasts are handled’, especially since I can’t do that myself! I worry about who is fondling your breasts, and that you seem to have become rather familiar with several boys during your journey. I hope that I have remained number one in your heart, as you certainly are for me. Please remember that you are a highborn lady and my intended, so please do not do anything scandalous that will bring shame to your Lord Father or to me. I write this from love and not from anger._

_Several weeks after you left, Golden Company was prepared for the march down the kingsroad to first confront Ser Kevan Lannister and then eventually reach King’s Landing. As you may recall from the war council, Ser Kevan left Casterly Rock with most of the army of the Westerlands, traveling on the goldroad towards King’s Landing. The speed of their journey was hindered by the many heavy wagons filled with necessary supplies and gold. The scouts and archers that Lord Jon sent earlier have been harassing the company with sorties and arrows while remaining hidden in the nearby forest. The teamsters who drive the wagons are peasants, not soldiers, and panic when attacked, which causes confusion within the entire column, and prevents any effective counterattack. Flaming arrows cause the aurochs that pull the wagons to stampede, and they often trample soldiers and destriers alike._

_The plan is for Golden Company and the Targaryen bannerman to leave the kingsroad and cross the river that flows out of the Gods Eye and feeds the Blackwater Rush, meet up with the advance guard, and quickly attack the Lannister army before their numbers can be reinforced from King’s Landing._

_Hopefully, our ambush will go as planned, and my next letter will be sent afterwards. Pray for our success and take care of yourself, my love._

_With great affection,_

_Aegon_

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Arya’s second letter to Aegon, sent from the Water Gardens:

As Arya dipped her quill into her inkwell, preparing to place her thoughts on the parchment in front of her, she thought with some guilt, _I probably should not tell him about **everything** I have been doing here. It is obvious that some of my activities upset him. It would be better if I could talk to him in person, but for now, I’ll leave out anything that might trouble him._

_Dear Aegon – I will be anxious about Golden Company’s plans and will worry about you until I hear that your quest was successful. Write back as soon as you can. There is no Godswood here, but I will pray for the old gods to aid you. I reckon that if you have the support of both my gods and yours, their combined powers should really help._

_Spear training has become my major focus, and I have been spending more time with Prince Oberyn and his squires. The Red Viper is a very intriguing person and an excellent instructor. We started out sparring spear to spear, but have advanced to pitting our spears against other types of blades. Prince Oberyn gave me a personal spear designed to match my size, and I have become more nimble and effective with it. The training sessions are so vigorous that we all have to go to the steam baths afterwards to relax our aching muscles._

Aegon fumed at this last statement, _So Arya is spending even **more** time naked in the company of strange men! I am beginning to believe that she enjoys being a cock tease! Mayhaps she really does want to become a courtesan!_

_I am excited to tell you that I have been given my own sand steed! She is a young mare that I have named Vhagar, and she is chestnut colored (like my hair!), graceful, quick, and beautiful! When I take her out to gallop over the desert at night, I close my eyes and imagine that I am Queen Visenya Targaryen, flying on the back of her dragon. Lady Nym has been giving me more horseback knife throwing lessons. I started throwing at targets from a stationary position, and have advanced to throwing while riding at different speeds. It is not as easy as I expected, having had a bit of archery training from horseback at Winterfell, but Nym said that like many things, constant practice will lead to improvement. I will need to become much better if I am to fight by your side._

_Lady Nym has also started my training with two shortswords. It is really challenging and totally exhausting. My right arm is not as strong as my left, and it aches all the time. However, the tactics required to fight with a sword in each hand are challenging, and learning them is as much fun as when I started water dancing with Needle. Lady Nym says that if I become proficient in all the weapons that I have been introduced to, I will be a formidable fighter, and a true Sand Snake. I am working as hard as I can because I dream of riding into battle between Lady Nym and General Obara!_

_Maester Caleotte has changed the focus of my lessons because my classmate, Arron Qorgyle has left for the Citadel, and he said that I have learned enough projectile science for now. The maester has given me books on the weaponry, fighting styles, and tactics of other cultures, intending to round out my military knowledge. He japed that Lord Jon would appreciate having an aide with such an education. I did not see anything humorous about his remark._

Aegon felt some relief, _Good! One less boy near her for me to worry about._

_Well, that is all I can report right now. My training keeps me exhausted most of the time, and I am looking forward to falling into bed (alone). Wish you were here! Please, please, write about the campaign as soon as you can!_

_Love,_

_Arya_

Aegon sighed as he put the letter down, _I’m glad that she says that she is going to bed alone! I wish I was with her now!_

There was an addendum to the letter:

_By the way, in response to your concerns about my behavior, consider that it is all in the spirit of experimentation and part of my Sand Snake training. You know that Lady Nym and Sarra are teaching me the art of seduction as a way to increase my warrior woman powers, and you are the only boy who really matters to me! I am learning new ways to enhance our physical relationship, and I think that you will be pleased when we meet up again._

Her confession did not quite mollify Aegon. Knowing that Sarra was involved made him feel less assured. The prince remembered how back in the Harrenhal library, once when he was alone with Sarra just before a meeting of the ‘culture club’, she fixed him with a predatory smirk and drawled that she thought that he was adorable and very desirable, and she often had the urge to seduce him and turn him into her love slave. However, she continued, since 1) they were distant cousins, and 2) Arya had already claimed him, she really had no inclination to complicate their lives. Aegon realized that if he were not already in love (and deathly afraid of Arya’s anger), he probably could have succumbed to the beautiful and lusty girl’s charms. He shook his head and grimaced, _I must not think about Sarra and her influence on Arya, it will only discomfit me!_ It was obvious that his wolf princess admired the older girl immensely and Arya had told him that Gendry was the only boy who had been able to resist Sarra’s advances. Arya had seemed pleased by this fact, and he suspected that she felt some kind of possessiveness for him. Aegon was not sure if he should be jealous of the handsome smith, and remained confused by the complicated relationship between Sansa, Arya, and Gendry. _Arya claims that I am the only boy for her,_ he thought, _but sometimes I have no idea what she is really thinking! Lord Jon was right – Arya will be a trial for any boy who cares for her!_

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Aegon’s second letter to Arya, sent from the Crownlands:

_Dearest Arya – The more I read your letters, the more I miss your company. I can barely wait until we are together again. And I am very pleased that you are preparing to fight by my side. Duck grinned when I told him, and he said that he misses his ‘wolf girl’ immensely. Lord Jon has received ravens from Lady Nym about your progress and he is very impressed. He also said that he is not surprised, because you are the most determined girl he has met. In case you have not heard from your lord father yet, Lord Jon also received a raven from Winterfell, and he told me that the Stark party has returned home and is getting settled. Your father japed that there are so many young people in the castle now that he and Lady Catelyn have no time to rule the North, only look after their education._

Arya smiled, _It sounds like fun! I wish I could visit home. I miss Winterfell so much!_

_Your father also wrote that his bannermen have declared their support for a Targaryen king and a wolf princess. There was much celebrating and toasting to our health at the meeting to decide the political direction of the North. So if my forces win out, we can count on your homeland to ally itself with us. That declaration has really pleased me and increased my confidence in the future. I hope that someday we can go to Winterfell together and show our love for the North. I am also eager to see our friends again and meet the rest of your family._

Arya was very pleased, _Aye, I want so much for that to come to pass!_

_I last wrote that our combined forces were about to engage Ser Kevan Lannister’s entourage on the goldroad. When we arrived at the rendezvous point, we found that, in anticipation, the advance guard had intensified their attacks on the wagon train, and the panicked column was moving directly into our planned ambush. The soldiers had the battle well in hand, and Lord Jon did not let me approach too closely to the front line for fear of a stray arrow striking me._

Arya approved, _Aegon must be kept safe until he is needed to rally all the troops for the siege of King’s Landing._

_We would have captured Ser Kevan and the entire wagon train, but Ser Jaime Lannister arrived from the Red Keep with many knights and soldiers at the last moment, and rescued Ser Kevan and his closest bannermen, along with many wagons, and the Lannister archers gave them a safe passage into King’s Landing. We did not dare to approach as they had the upper hand so close to the Red Keep. So we were not totally successful in defeating the Lannister army from Casterly Rock, but we did capture a large portion of their gold and supplies, and the majority of their soldiers were captured and disarmed. Now the Lannisters are trapped within King’s Landing, and we will begin our siege, awaiting the arrival of General Obara and the Dornish Army._

_I look forward to the moment when you will join me here. I miss you intensely!_

_With much love,_

_Aegon_

Arya put down the parchment, closed her eyes, and reflected over his words, _I wonder how soon we will set out for King’s Landing? I think that I am ready to go to war!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The kids at Winterfell are having fun and getting to know each other better. Theon’s life becomes more complicated.


	48. Fast Times at Winterfell School

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The kids settle into the busy life of the castle. Theon has an unexpected admirer, although he is not thoroughly pleased with the attention.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 48 Fast Times at Winterfell School

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Per her lord husband’s request, Catelyn summoned Mariah, the butcher’s daughter, to her solar, and informed her that she was to become a handmaiden to Lady Sansa and live with the noble household. She noted that the girl had a perfect curtsey and looked at her with intelligent eyes. Lady Stark also observed that Mariah was neat and clean, but her dress was obviously of a peasant style. _I will have to tell Sansa to clothe her properly,_ she reflected, and said, “Mariah, you will also attend lessons with the maester, accompanying Lady Sansa and Jeyne Poole.” Mariah seems pleased by this unusual comment. Catelyn suspected that this was some sort of experiment designed by her husband. _Mayhaps he is curious to see if smallfolk can learn as easily as highborn,_ she thought. Later, Catelyn instructed Sansa about Mariah’s responsibilities, both as a handmaiden and a student of the maester, stating it was her lord father’s idea. Mariah had two less namedays than Sansa, and looked to her for direction, eager to learn what she needed to do for her lady.

Lyanna Mormont arrived, accompanied by two large, bearded, burly, and heavily armed Bear Island soldiers. Robb and Theon were present, and the boys were surprised to see that she was a small girl under a mountain of fur, but with an air of boldness and self-confidence, gazing at the lads with one hand on the hilt of a shortsword in her belt. Robb greeted her formally as the son of the lord of the House, and brought her to Lady Catelyn’s solar. Lyanna addressed her lady, saying, “On behalf of my family, I accept the honor of an education in the Great House of the North, and I will work hard to show that I deserve the offer.”

Catelyn thought with pleasure, _How nice, the child is eloquent and polite._ But Lyanna also announced, “My lady, I must also inform you that although I have no desire to be subservient to a man, I accept my fate as a representative of my House, and recognize that I am here to make a match that enhances the politics of the North.”

Lady Stark realized that Lyanna could be as much of a challenge as Arya had been, however she was pleased that Lyanna did not fuss about wearing gowns or being expected to exhibit ladylike behavior. She also saw that Lyanna shared Arya’s determined and stubborn attitude, and worried that she might be hard to discipline.

From Lady Stark’s solar, Lyanna found her way to the training yard, having a keen interest in weaponry. As fate would have it, she immediately saw Theon loitering about. Theon realized that the small girl was evaluating him with obvious curiosity. He looked closely at her and noted that Lyanna’s face was plainer than pretty, but not unattractive, with small but expressive brown eyes, and framed with long brown hair. He observed by the fit of her gown that her curves were already beginning to develop even though she had not flowered yet. He recalled that her mother, Lady Mage Mormont, called the She-Bear, was renowned for possessing the largest bosom in the North, and the Greatjon Umber had japed that she could probably suffocate a man between her ample breasts, but added with a smirk, “Oh, but what a way to die!” Theon also recalled that Lyanna’s older sister, Alysane, was a formidable fighter and had a strikingly voluptuous figure. Theon lazily considered, _This girl may not have Sansa’s lovely face, but I wager that her body will be even more desirable when she comes of age!_ The amorous youth also deliberated, _Mayhaps it will be an advantage to have her smitten with me._

Lyanna was aware of Theon’s eyes roving over her body and stopping at her chest. To be a Mormont lady was to be constantly the object of lustful male attention, and the girl sighed inwardly, _Mother warned me that this would eventually happen, but I did not expect it so soon._

“Oye!” Lyanna said sharply to Theon, “My eyes are up here!” as she tapped her cheek. Theon jerked his head up with a flustered and embarrassed expression, having been caught staring at her bosom. The she-bear bluntly continued, “My lady mother has seen you sparring, and she thought that you might be a good match for me. However, it is my opinion that you look like a fop, a dandy, and I wonder if you really are a fighter.”

Theon was taken aback by her harsh words and was not sure how to respond. The child has no more than ten and two namedays yet she was considering him as a possible suitor! Observing the sword in her belt, he smiled and retorted, “Mayhaps you would like to cross swords and make your own decision.”

They briefly sparred with blunt shortswords, assessing each other, until Lyanna put up her sword and stated, “I approve of your fighting skill, and I will expect you to keep up with your training and studies.” The Ironborn youth was too shocked to respond, so Lyanna continued, “I intend to write to my mother about my impressions of you, mayhaps she had the right of it after all.”

Theon was amused by her bold statements, but not completely comfortable with her attention, thinking, _she is like Arya, obstinate and single-minded, determined to get what she wants. I may be in trouble!_ Later that evening, Theon went out with Robb to the brothel in Wintertown, and the next morning encountered an angry Lyanna in the bailey.

In the middle of the courtyard, she scolded him bitterly, saying, “You have no concern for _your_ reputation, _my_ reputation, or even your health!”

Theon became angry, and spat back, “Lady Lyanna, my behavior has nothing to do with you! Leave me be!”

Those were the wrong words to direct to the proud maiden, and her eyes narrowed as she approached him and slapped him hard across the face, almost knocking him down and leaving a bright red mark on his cheek. As she angrily stormed away, Theon was speechless. The witnesses in the bailey chuckled, and Robb hooted, “Guess she told you!”

The gossip soon reached the ears of Lord and Lady Stark, and they were very amused. Ned told his wife, “In truth, that obstinate child could be the best thing for our feckless ward. Aye, Lady Lyanna could bring back the excitement that Arya took with her. Mage Mormont gave the girl my dear sister’s name as an honor to our House, but we had no idea how appropriate it would be.” His lady only returned his gaze warily, remembering what chaos Arya could cause.

Later, Theon approached Lyanna after the midday meal, intending to put an end to her obsession with him. “Look here, my lady, I am the heir to Lord of the Iron Islands and you cannot expect, in all reality, to make a match with me. Our stations are far too different.”

Lyanna returned his cold gaze, “You are the one who needs to get real, Theon. I know Ironborn politics as well as you do. You style yourself to be the next ruler of the Iron Islands, yet you have two bloodthirsty and ambitious uncles, and an older sister who is also determined to succeed your lord father. Do you expect to challenge any of them?” Without waiting for a response, she laughed, “If you ever returned to Pike to claim the throne, you would be a dead man within a day.” Theon’s eyes widened and he looked shocked at her insight. Lyanna continued, “No, your best course of action, which would also keep you in the land of the living, is to marry into the House of a Stark bannerman, maintaining an alliance by marriage between the Iron Islands and the North.”

The young she-bear paused and her expression softened, “You know I am right. Think about it. You may kiss me now to indicate that you accept the notion of our union.” Lyanna raised her face and looked at him expectantly.

Theon was thoroughly bewildered. Practical reflection was not his forte. _This is a fine mess I have gotten myself into!_ He shook his head a few times, as if to clear it of cobwebs, and retorted while hurriedly stalking away, “I have to think!”

Lyanna forcefully shouted after him, “I’ll say it again! You know I am right!”

Lyanna eventually encountered Squire Adrian in the training yard. She recalled that her mother had told her that Lady Stark had offered the Crownlands youth as a possible match for Lyanna, too. She inspected him with curiosity. Although Adrian had recently reached puberty, had grown a bit taller, and had proudly started sporting a wispy mustache, Lyanna was not very impressed when she compared him with more mature boys such as Robb and even Theon. She was most impressed with Gendry, noting how his thick dark chest hair was escaping from his open tunic, and had immediately thought, _that one would make a fine bear!_ Lyanna approached Adrian and suggested that they spar. Adrian was surprised by her aggressive style as she bested him with a shortsword, and when they stopped, Lyanna said, “Ha! I am more of a fighter than you are! I suggest that you work harder in the yard. You may be successful in the classroom, but success with weapons is most important in the North!” Adrian was perplexed, but found himself thinking about the bold young she-bear more than he expected. He reflected that she had much in common with Arya, whom he had severely crushed on. Jayne eventually noticed that he was distracted and became worried, but did not have the nerve to ask him what was wrong.

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Lady Catelyn summoned Maester Luwin to her solar, informing him of his two newest charges, Lyanna and Mariah. The maester groaned inwardly, thinking, _I have reached my limit in terms of lesson plans! This is all too much for me!_ He reflected on his responsibilities:

Robb was proud that as the oldest Stark sibling, he was the heir to Winterfell, and took his responsibilities seriously. He worked hard on all the subjects that Maester Luwin thought he would need to be as good a ruler as his lord father, but he was also required to spend much time with the master-at-arms, plus travel the countryside with his father. In spite of his heavy workload, the lad had a good sense of humor and a cheerful demeanor. Maester Luwin was encouraged that Robb would become a good lord.

Robb’s best friend, Theon Greyjoy, was a trial for the maester. Although Theon also required a future lord’s education, he was lazy and unfocused, preferring to tease the girls and jape instead of taking his studies seriously. Maester Luwin knew that he was smart and capable, because when his pride was challenged, he completed his work as satisfactorily as Robb. Unfortunately, Theon was mainly a skirt-chaser, and if any maiden attended lessons in attire that revealed any amount of cleavage, he was hopelessly distracted.

The maester’s new charge, Gendry the smith, was of a practical state of mind, and desired to improve his skills with sums and letters, such that it would help his craft. He showed a limited interest in history or other more intellectual subjects, but did not complain about any assigned work. The maester was most curious how he was expected to treat the lad, having been informed by Lord Stark that the possibility existed for Gendry to become the true heir to his father, the late King Robert Baratheon. Maester Luwin was well aware of Baratheon politics, having learned that King Joffrey was most likely an abomination, born of incest, and that Gendry’s uncles were not good leaders, either. Lord Renly was frivolous and cared little for ruling a kingdom, and Lord Stannis was dour, sullen, and unpopular. Although he was born a bastard, Gendry could become the Lord of Storm’s End. Luwin reflected on Gendry’s character and concluded that the serious youth possessed excellent leadership potential, and was determined to see that he was educated as one.

Lady Sansa and her companion, Jeyne Poole, had little patience for sums and history, and only wanted to study music, art, poetry, and romantic literature. Sansa newest handmaiden, Mariah, would also study with her, although her skill with letters needed to improve first.

Squire Adrian, who the maester assumed also required a future lord’s education, rejected the plan, and insisted that he wanted to study with Lady Sansa and Jeyne, and along with the girls, only showed an interest in the liberal arts. The maester was not sure what to think.

His newest charge, Lyanna Mormont, the young she-bear, was the complete opposite of Sansa and Jeyne. She had a scornful attitude towards the arts, and demanded to be principally taught politics and military history, stating that she expected to be a fighting lady, like her mother and older sister, and required the practical education due a future leader of soldiers. She also told the maester that she considered that her scheduled time with Winterfell’s master-at-arms to be more important than her time in the classroom, as she already believed herself to be well-grounded with letters and sums.

Bran Stark and Jojen Reed, who had quickly become inseparable companions, were only interested in ancient history, searching Winterfell’s vast library for books relating to the old gods, the First Men, the children of the forest, legends of the ‘Others’, and the King- beyond-the-Wall. Lady Meera Reed did not seem to be interested in any specific topics personally, but only helped her younger brother’s quest for what the maester considered outdated, useless information.

Maester Luwin was grateful that he did not have to deal with the youngest Stark, Rickon, as he had less than six namedays and was learning his basic letters and sums at his mother’s knee. Besides, Rickon was as wild as his direwolf, Shaggydog, and would have been impossible to control in a classroom.

The elderly maester turned his haggard and weary face to Catelyn and confessed, “My lady, I am overwhelmed and will need help if I am to educate all these youngsters. I will send a raven to the Citadel in Oldtown, requesting backup, preferably a younger man who can deal with young people. There are too many students, and they all require a wide variety of lessons.”

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Sansa, Jeyne, and Mariah had some time to kill, as Septa Mordane was in a meeting with Lady Catelyn, and their embroidery lesson was postponed. They decide to go to the training yard to observe the boys at sparring practice, hoping for the thrill of seeing an exposed muscular arm or two, or with luck, a youth exercising completely shirtless.

Gendry was trading blows with Robb, genially deflecting sword thrusts while displaying a good-natured smile, but making no effort to press an attack. Ser Rodrik, the master-at-arms, looked on with a bored expression. Sansa recalled her warlike sister telling her that Gendry lacked blood lust, and that she should encourage him to fight better. Sansa had an idea and approached Theon, who was idly standing nearby. “Theon,” she whispered, “pretend that you are going to kidnap me and Robb will prevent Gendry from rescuing me. Mayhaps, he will show more aggression in his swordplay.”

The squid prince smiled and nodded, agreeing to play along. “Aha!” he shouted as he wrapped his arms around Sansa’s torso, “Bold knight, I have captured your lady and I am going to abscond with her to my castle to visit my lust upon her tempting and helpless body! My champion will keep you at bay and you can only look on in agony!”

Theon, the dog that he was, used the opportunity to cup the underside of Sansa’s soft round breasts as his arms encircled her body, delighting in how wonderful they felt, earning him a shove and a slap on the shoulder from the maiden, who then scolded, “Theon! That was not an invitation to fondle me! Keep your hands to yourself and hold me less intimately!”

“Apologies, my lady,” Theon responded with a grin, “your beauty so overpowered me that I could not control myself.”

“Well, try to maintain control, if you possibly can!” Sansa huffed, “Arya says that men think with their cocks first, and you are certainly proof of that!”

Meanwhile, Gendry had seen what was transpiring on the other side of the yard, as did Robb, who immediately deduced the situation and stood between the smith and his lady love with his sword raised. Gendry’s eyes narrowed and he growled, bringing his sword down with tremendous force on Robb’s, causing the other boy to step back. The loud clang of the clashing swords attracted Ser Rodrik’s attention, and he was no longer bored.

Theon was lifting and shaking Sansa gently, who was squealing in mock terror, as both youths tried not to start laughing.

Robb was tall in the usual Stark way, but he was not as large as Gendry. However, he did have more experience and skill than the smith. Robb found himself deflecting and dodging Gendry’s powerful blows, becoming wearier with every minute as he tried to keep Gendry in front of him. Eventually, their swords crossed above their heads and Gendry pushed hard, causing Robb to stumble and fall down. “I yield!” Robb shouted, “Lord Squid, I have failed! You are on your own!”

Gendry approached Theon with a menacing expression and his sword pointed at the boy’s face, and Theon immediately released Sansa, saying, “I yield also, bold knight, here is your prize!”

Sansa ran to Gendry, giving him an exaggerated embrace for the witnesses to the battle, speaking with an obsequious voice, “Thank you, my dear champion, you have rescued me from these fiends! Now carry me to my Lord Father, who will grant you a great reward!”

Everyone present was laughing and enjoying the jape, but then they became startled and turned to the sound of applause, only to see Ser Rodrik smiling and clapping his hands. “Well met!” he exclaimed, “Lady Sansa, mayhaps you and your ladies should attend practice more frequently, for then I can expect my charges to fight with more vigor!”

Sansa gave a quick look at the other girls, and all three performed exaggerated curtsies. Sansa responded, “We would be honored to do so, seeing that our presence has such a positive effect on these young warriors.”

Ser Rodrik bowed to Sansa, then turned to the boys, “All right, lads, grab your weapons and show me the energy that was just on display!” The girls enjoyed the entertainment until Septa Mordane came to claim them.

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Sansa had been attending the smithy at various times to observe Gendry at his favorite activity as Arya had suggested she do, which pleased him greatly. One day, she saw that Mikken was absent and asked why. Gendry said that he was asked to do some repair work in Wintertown and would be away all day. Sansa smiled and went to lock the door, recalling how her audacious sister had smirked that she had much fun with Gendry in the heat of the forge. Sansa approached the sweaty, sooty, shirtless youth with sparkling eyes, and made to embrace him. Gendry immediately knew what she wanted and drew the girl he admired so much into a deep kiss, sliding his large, sensual hands first around her waist, and then caressing her back. Sansa closed her eyes and pressed herself against his impossibly warm body as they kissed, touching the soft hair that covered his chest, moving her hands all the way down his flat stomach to the belt of his breeches, giving herself a thrill, and causing Gendry to moan into her mouth. Encouraged by her boldness, Gendry moved his hands to the front of her bodice, fondling her breasts, mesmerized by how soft they felt in his palms. Even through her corset, Sansa could detect the heat emanating from his fingers as he caressed her, and the wonderful sensation went right to her center, which immediately became damp. Startled, the girl broke contact with both his lips and torso, breathing heavily and panting, “Gendry, we must stop right now, for in another minute, we may not be able to stop at all!”

Gendry was panting also, and he nodded his agreement, his lust-filled eyes under his thick lashes inviting her to start kissing him all over again, “Aye, my lady, you are so beautiful that I would have been tempted to kiss you all over your sweet body. You should leave now for both our sakes.” He looked at her apologetically, “Let me brush you off, I am afraid I have soiled your gown.”

She left the forge and tried to sneak into her chambers, hoping to change into a fresh gown before being discovered. Unfortunately, she ran into her lady mother first, who looked at her critically and immediately noticed her disheveled state, seeing the dirt on the waist of her gown, and more alarmingly, the sooty handprints on her bodice! Sansa’s hair was mussed, her face was flushed, her lips puffy and pink, and her cheeks were scratched from Gendry’s stubble. Knowing the answer even as she asked the question, Catelyn demanded, “Sansa, what have you been doing?!”

Sansa was too ebullient to be afraid of her mother, and she giggled, her face glowing, saying, “I’m sure that it is apparent that I have been kissing Gendry, mother. I love him and it feels so right to kiss him.”

Catelyn did not know what to say, “You mean that you went to that filthy forge and kissed him in a public place?!”

Still giggling, the high-spirited girl replied, “Oh, yes! Arya told me that the forge was the best place to kiss Gendry. She said that she had a lot of fun with him at the one in Harrenhal.”

Now Lady Stark was completely overwhelmed. She had to accept the fact that her impetuous younger daughter had been in a compromising position with the young smith, and had encouraged her sister to do the same! She simply did not know what to think of the younger generation.

Sansa broke into her agitated thoughts, saying, “Don’t worry, that was long ago, and Gendry only has affection for me now. He would never dishonor me, either.”

Catelyn choked, “We will discuss this later. I am too distressed to talk at the moment. I suggest that you go to the sept and pray to the Mother for forgiveness for your unladylike behavior.” She quickly returned to her solar, thinking of that bottle of Arbor Gold she had just opened, and Sansa raced to her chambers to finally change her clothing, but she still could imagine Gendry’s hands all over her body and held on to the memory as long as she could.

Later, Catelyn told Ned about her conversation with Sansa, but he only smiled and said, “Didn’t you ever sneak away to a private place for a secret kiss with a crush when you were a teenager?” Catelyn remembered Petyr and blushed. Ned continued, “Don’t worry, Gendry is a good lad, and besides, Sansa has several overprotective brothers to safeguard her honor.” He was not far from the truth, as nothing remains a secret long in a castle, and soon Robb, with Theon by his side, menacingly warned Gendry not to dishonor his sister, reminding him that he had a long way to go before he was as good as they were in the training yard.

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Catelyn wandered out to the bailey and saw Ned and Jory loading supplies on several horses. She went over to her husband and briskly asked, “What are you doing?”

Ned replied, “I was coming to see you soon to tell you that since I have been home for a while now, it is time to see how things are doing in the neighboring villages.”

His wife protested, “Aye, I agree that you should inspect the villages soon, but we have much to do with all the children you have collected on your journey!”

Ned wrinkled his brow, “But Maester Luwin has their book learning plotted out, Ser Rodrik has the lads’ weaponry training well in hand, and you and Septa Mordane have organized the girls’ needlework lessons. Surely, I can take this opportunity to assess my vassals’ needs.”

Catelyn noted that besides the food and sleeping furs loaded on the supply horses, Jory had also attached Ned’s longbow and fishing gear. _Humph, so he won’t admit that this is also a pleasure trip!_ She said aloud, “But you are overlooking that both of us are needed to teach our charges lordly behavior, especially because I have planned for a feast in less than a month, and they must all exhibit proper etiquette. I doubt that Gendry, for example, knows the purpose of the ten and five items of cutlery he will face at the dinner table, nor how to address your bannermen. And many of the boys never use a napkin unless reminded to do so! We need to practice their manners and other things, and all the boys need dancing lessons.”

Lord Stark groaned inwardly, but only said, “Aye, dear, I will return as soon as I can. I dare not leave you to this task alone.”

Lady Stark smirked, “You better return post haste! If not, I will send Lady Lyanna after you. That bold girl has told me that tracking is a favorite activity on Bear Island, and no one can escape her if she is on their trail!”

 _Cannot I get any peace from all these women!_ He thought with a sigh. _I envy Lord Connington. He has no wife or daughters to order him around._ But Ned could not resist a chuckle, _It is no wonder that he found Arya such a challenge; he had no experience with the determination of even such a small girl!_ After tightening the last belly band on the supply horse, he turned to his suspicious wife, embraced her, and tried to plant a kiss on her lips, which she dodged irritably. “All right, all right,” he ventured, “Please don’t be wroth with me. I will return in a week’s time and we will do this thing together.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but climbed on his horse, signaled to Jory, and the two men hastily escaped the angry gaze of the Lady of Winterfell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Arya has to continue her weaponry training in Dorne. Also, Lady Nym ponders proper warrior woman attire for Arya.
> 
> Readers: Please let me know what you think of my take on Lyanna Mormont. I thought she could bring some sassiness to Winterfell, seeing as Arya is away in Dorne.


	49. The Warrior Princess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arya improves her warrior woman skills. Lady Nym considers a battle costume for the wolf girl.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 49 The Warrior Princess 

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Following their tryst, Prince Oberyn was relieved to observe that Arya’s ardor for him seemed to cool. She stopped acting seductive when they were together, and focused solely on her spear training. She buttoned her tunic up all the way to her throat, but still wore her short, tight breeches, amused by the effort the squires made to not be distracted by her exposed and shapely thighs and tight little arse. The squires were familiar with her naked body while bathing, but there was still something alluring about seeing her maneuvering in her butchered breeches in the training yard. Oberyn had avoided making any comment, suspecting that if he drew attention to her attire, she would smirk in front of the squires that he had certainly enjoyed placing his head between her thighs. He had no desire to awaken any curiosity in his disciples about any possible inappropriate behavior between him and the wolf girl. He reflected once again on how quickly she had learned to be a temptress.

Lady Nym came to observe Arya at her spear training lesson, and saw that Arya was still distracting the squires with her bare thighs and tight breeches. She returned to their shared chambers and sorted through the girl’s possessions, finally finding, underneath a pile of random clothing, the short skirt she had worn on shipboard. Nym went back to the training yard and pulled the young warrior aside. “Here,” she ordered, “Put this on. You have had your fun. It is time to get serious.” Arya huffed, rolled her eyes, and sulked for a minute, but complied and did not complain out loud. With the skirt covering her thighs, she returned to sparring. The Sand Snake turned to her father and said, “For most of her life Arya had been told that she was ugly and undesirable. Mayhaps her present behavior is in response to that ill-treatment. Now that she is aware that she really is attractive, she enjoys the admiring glances of boys and men and unconsciously craves their attention.”

Prince Oberyn nodded, “Aye, the wolf girl presents quite an image. She is becoming as lovely as you or Sarra, and it is obvious that my young squires appreciate her beauty.”

Nym looked sternly at her father, saying, “I just hope that you no longer have any desire to pursue her. I am not comfortable with the concept of you lavishing attention to all parts of her body, as she described to me.”

The Red Viper’s face colored and he responded, “I will never repeat that behavior. She caught me at a moment of weakness and I succumbed to her seductiveness.”

Changing the subject, Oberyn said, “My students have moved on from spear versus spear training, and are now pitting the spear versus shortswords and longswords, taking turns with all the different weapons.

Nym added, “Lady Arya is perfecting her throwing dagger work, both on foot and on horseback, and she is starting to fight with a shortswords in each hand.”

Prince Oberyn raised his eyebrows, replying, “That is an advanced and challenging skill. I will have to observe her progress at some time before you leave.”

“Aye, the wolf girl is determined to learn as much as she is capable of before we travel to King’s Landing. She spends most of her time practicing her techniques. Her activities include even more riding and fighting on horseback, mainly with her knives, but I am also teaching her how to use a shortsword while riding, as she may be forced to battle with one, and I want her to be prepared.”

“When I first met the she-wolf,” Prince Oberyn grinned, “I had no idea how serious she was about becoming a Sand Snake. If all goes as planned, the North and Dorne would become natural allies for the first time in history, which would help support a strong central government, and the citizens of Westeros would all benefit.”

Lady Nym smiled, “If Prince Aegon takes the Iron Throne and leads a stable monarchy, the banks of Essos would be more likely to lend him the money needed to recover from the damage caused by war.” Then she laughed, “Lord Connington told me that Arya has already charmed a representative of the Iron Bank of Braavos, so the prince has a timely advantage there.”

The Viper rolled his eyes, “I am not surprised. It never pays to underestimate that girl.”

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Lady Nym had started instructing Arya in the practice of fighting with two swords. One afternoon, she demonstrated an interesting move. While sparring, she suddenly crossed her swords near their hilts and seized Arya’s sword in a scissor’s grip, yanking it out of her hand, and tossing it to the other side of the yard. Arya was amazed and asked, “Will you teach me that?”

Nym nodded and went through the motions again, demonstrating slowly how she was able to achieve the advantage. Arya also learned how to fight defensively with one blade, while attacking with the other. There were a lot of concepts to memorize, and the technique was difficult to master, but the wolf girl liked the challenge. As a change of pace, and to keep her student fresh, Nym also added the use of a shield both defensively and offensively, and how to quickly attach it to her back for protection when shifting back to fighting with blades in both hands.

Lady Nym recommended a curious practice called ‘gymnastics’, which is a training technique that specifically increases the student’s balance, strength, flexibility, agility, coordination, endurance and control. Arya learned tumbling, and how to mount and fall from a horse without injury. Her skill at tree-climbing was advantageous, and she found that the exercises were easier than originally expected.

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With Arron gone, Arya also was more attentive to Maester Caleotte, who was pleased that his best student was no longer so distracted by romance. Almost unconsciously, Arya had concluded that she had reached a plateau in her exploration of the amorous arts, and decided to focus solely on weapons training. The Maester found books that discussed the fighting techniques of various cultures, knowing that she was interested in all forms of weaponry and the details of battles.

Nym was flipping pages through one of Arya’s military history books, and depictions of Princess Xena, the defender of Amphipolis, and Princess Diana of the Amazons, commanded her attention. These two warrior women wore similar garb – the upper body, from waist to bosom, was covered with a sort of armored bustier, and they both wore forearm bracelets for protection and stability, as well as shin guards for protecting the lower legs and knees. However, the strong thighs of both women were deliberately exposed below short armored skirts. _Mayhaps men viewing that attire become distracted by thoughts of how those creamy thighs would feel framing their faces as they contemplated what secrets the skirt hid from view. Such a distraction would likely lead to a knock on the head!_ The Sand Snake pondered.

Another image caught Lady Nym’s attention - King Leonidas of Sparta. The impressive warrior was scantily clad, merely wearing a helmet, a shield, a short armored skirt and shin guards, and no other protection. A long cape completed the outfit. The Spartan employed few weapons also, fighting only with a spear and a shortsword. The image of the handsome and bearded king displayed a muscular and virile physique, with broad shoulders that tapered over a washboard stomach to a narrow waist. He possessed powerful arms and thighs, and the skirt barely covered his overstuffed codpiece. King Leonidas exuded such an air of masculinity that the Sand Snake had the urge to pleasure herself immediately. Sensing that her center was becoming warm and moist, she thought, _I must commit this image to memory, and recall it tonight when I am abed and letting my fingers wander down my body._

Seeing her older disciple nearby, she called out, “Sarra, come here and look at this illustration. How would you like that man in your bed?”

The younger girl’s eyes became wide with appreciation and she licked her plump lips. “Gods! I would let _that_ man have me _any_ way he wanted. My lady, Gendry is his twin. Mayhaps when we meet the handsome smith again, we can arrange a masquerade ball and dress him in that costume. I wager that even Lady Sansa would appreciate it. Um, please let me know when you are done with that book.”

Meanwhile, Arya was considering the weapons that the warrior women preferred. Both favored the shortsword, but they also had unique accessories. Princess Xena employed a strange sort of flying disk. It had a sharp edge, and after she threw it, and the weapon did its intended damage, the ring returned to her. The wolf girl had asked her mentor where she could acquire such a disk, and Nym replied that it probably had been a magic weapon and lost to history. Princess Xena was also known for a blood-curdling war cry that inspired fear and dread in her opponents, and Arya considered learning more about it and utilizing it herself. The book related that the sound was similar to the cries of lamentation of the nomadic women of the desert country of the red waste. The bold she-wolf thought, _Someday I will sail to Essos, explore the red waste, and learn that war cry._

Princess Diana also had special items that Nym said were probably magical. She wore silver bracelets that deflected sword thrusts, an ornamental tiara that could also be thrown as a weapon, and deployed an entangling rope that paralyzed an opponent as well as ensnared him. Arya was intrigued by one more thing that was evident in the painted image. Princess Diana’s lightly armored bodice and skirt were not typically dark leather, but a combination of bright and garish red and blue colors. Arya pondered, _Did the unusual colors startle and confuse her enemies, serving as a distraction? I wonder how effective they would be today?_ The young warrior decided to remember the special advantages characteristic of her heroes from the past and to contemplate their value at a future time.

Lady Nym reflected on the outfits of the famous warrior women and considered fabricating one that suited Arya. The wolf girl wore silks often, but obviously preferred to fight in a tunic and her butchered breeches. The Sand Snake spoke to the tanner and the armorer, and had them prepare an armored boiled leather bodice and skirt, much like that worn by Princess Xena, but designed for a girl with a more modest figure compared to the extremely curvaceous warrior. Nym presented the set to Arya, and the she-wolf eagerly changed her attire. Spinning around, waving her sword, and flashing her nubile thighs, Arya declared that she loved her new clothes, and gave Nym an ardent kiss on the lips. Nym sighed, “Wolf girl, I think you enjoy being an exhibitionist, but who am I to judge? If you can defeat even one opponent because he is focused on your cunny instead of your sword, it will be worth it.”

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Soon after arriving at the Water Gardens, the dynamics in the ladies’ chamber had changed. Arya’s most frequent bedmate was Sarra, and Nym seldom shared a bed with either girl now. Lady Nym’s best friends and favorite bedmates, the twins Jeyne and Jennelyn Fowler of Skyreach, had arrived from their home in the mountains of Dorne, and the three girls spent much of their time together, gossiping and catching up. At night, there was much giggling and moaning emanating from their shared bed, and Arya was intensely interested to learn what sort of activities were in play there. Lady Nym noticed Arya’s curiosity, and one evening she climbed into Sarra’s bed and instructed the she-wolf to join the twins. Arya was quite familiar with the interesting bedtime games that were possible between two girls, but she was not prepared for receiving erotic attention from two girls at the same time. Her sensitive areas were overwhelmed and her bells were rung more frequently than she had ever experienced, and she loved every minute of it. Arya attempted to return their favors in kind, but soon found herself totally exhausted trying to do so. With arms and legs entangled, the three girls finally fell into sound slumber. The next morning, Arya asked her mentor, “How do you keep up with them?”

Nym grinned wickedly, “I am insatiable, and usually have the boundless energy required for our coupling. What about you, Arya, do you want to repeat the performance tonight?”

Arya sighed, “I think it is all too much for me. In fact, not to say that I don’t appreciate sharing a bed with you or Sarra, but I think that I am ready to limit myself to the attention of one eager male on a daily and nightly basis. I can’t wait to meet up with Aegon again. Now I realize that I miss him intensely and desire his touch.”

“Well, it is most likely that you will see him soon,” Nym smiled, “and you will have the opportunity to show him all that you have learned on your journey. I am sure he will be most delighted.”

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Finally, it was time to travel to Dorne and join General Obara and the Dornish army, who were located in the Reach, trying to impede the Tyrell wagon train from bringing supplies to King’s Landing. Lady Nym would be leading more troops, many of them the soldiers of bannermen they would meet as they traveled up the Boneway. Sarra and Arya would join Nym, and the Fowler twins would travel with them until the party was close to Skyreach, their home. Prince Oberyn would remain at Sunspear, raising and training more troops as needed. Prince Doran bade the party farewell and wished them good fortune, telling Arya that he had been delighted to meet her, and hoped that she would return to Dorne someday.

Before leaving the Water Gardens, Lady Nym told Arya that she had received a missive from her younger sister. Arya had hoped to meet Tyene, who was also a Sand Snake, and was surprised to learn that the girl, who was the daughter of a septa, and had also trained as one, was actually a secret agent for Dorne, serving as a personal septa to the Lannisters within the Red Keep. Tyene’s position allowed her to keep a close watch on that nefarious family. Tyene was a skilled spymaster and had agents of her own in the Red Keep to carry secret message into and out of castle. Tyene informed Nym that conditions within King’s Landing were deteriorating due to lack of food and other necessities, and the Lannisters were becoming increasingly unpopular. Queen Cersei’s Goldcloaks and Redcloaks were severely challenged to keep order in the dangerous streets. As a distraction, Cersei planned to quickly arrange the marriage of King Joffrey to Margaery Tyrell.

Lady Nym’s party first traveled by ship through the Sea of Dorne from Sunspear to Yronwood, where they encountered the Boneway, the road through the Dornish Marches, a long mountain chain. Martell bannermen would join Lady Nym as they traveled on the Boneway, which would take them to the border between the Stormlands and the Reach.

Nymeria the direwolf loped along the mountain road happily, frequently disappearing into the rocks or bushes to follow a game trail, and sniffing out her next meal. She was enjoying the cooler climate and did not regret leaving the oppressive heat of Dorne’s southern coast.

It was on the Boneway that Arya met Ned Dayne, the young heir of Starfall. Upon learning that Prince Aegon’s ‘wolf princess’ was traveling with the Dornish party, he was eager to meet her. Nymeria was puzzled upon meeting Lord Ned. He looked like her favorite prince, but smelled completely different. She whined as she smelled him and moved closer to her mistress.

Lord Dayne had only two more namedays than Arya, and with his slender build, pale blond hair, and blue-purple eyes, he resembled Prince Aegon more than a typical dark-haired Dornishman. Arya thought him to be quite handsome. The boy seemed to admire her appearance and spoke politely, “My lady, I have been eager to meet you. Lady Ashara, who you knew as Septa Lemore when you traveled with Prince Aegon, is my aunt, and I mourned her as lost for most of my life until we learned that she had returned to Westeros.”

Arya smiled, “Lady Ashara is my good friend, and she is now happily married to Ser Barristan Selmy, a fabled knight. The wedding was an amazing party!”

“I look forward to meeting her someday, and am glad that she has found peace.”

They continued speaking as they rode side by side up the Boneway, and their conversation continued as they sat by the campfire after dinner while a campsite of pavilions was being constructed by the soldiers. As the evening progressed, Ned appeared to have something on his mind, and eventually he spoke with some hesitation in his voice, “My lady, you have a baseborn brother, I believe his name is Jon Snow?”

Arya responded immediately, “Aye, he is my favorite brother, although my mother never treated him well. He is with the Night’s Watch at the Wall now. Except for Father, I miss him the most of all my family. We look alike, in fact, very much like Father, and our other siblings take after Mother. How do you know about Jon?”

Young Lord Dayne looked uncomfortable and answered, “He is my milk brother.”

“Brother? But you are from Dorne,” a puzzled Arya asked, “How can you and Jon be related?”

“ _Milk_ brothers,” he replied, “We shared the same wetnurse, Wylla, a servant of my House. Your lord father brought Jon to Dorne after his mother died in childbirth at the Tower of Joy during Robert’s Rebellion, and Wylla nursed him. Two years later I was born and my mother had no milk, so Wylla nursed me, too.”

“But Jon never knew his mother. Father refused to talk about her,” Arya was very confused.

Ned appeared even more uncomfortable, “Many believe that Jon was the son of Lord Stark and Ashara Dayne from their tryst at Harrenhal during the famous tourney, and when Lady Ashara disappeared, they think that she threw herself from a tower from the shame of birthing a bastard. However, my aunt was _not_ Jon’s mother.”

“Then who _was_ his mother?”

“Jon is the son of Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen, who disappeared after the tourney and got married in secret. Your father has known the truth all these years and claimed Jon as his bastard to keep him safe from the enemies of the Targaryen family, mainly Robert Baratheon and the Lannisters.”

Arya’s hand covered her mouth in surprise, “So that is why Jon and I look alike. People who knew my Aunt Lyanna say that I am her true image.”

“Aye. You, your father, your aunt, and Jon all share the classic Stark features.”

Tears rolled down Arya’s cheeks as she reflected that her favorite brother was actually her cousin. She missed him terribly, and thinking about him also reminded her of home and their happy times together. She bit her lip and tried not to cry, but the tears began to flow in spite of her determination. Nymeria sensed her unhappiness and pressed against her, whining and licking her face.

Ned Dayne saw the lovely girl’s distress and the tears leaking from her eyes. He stroked her arm, and softly said, “Do not fret, Lady Arya, Jon is still your cousin, and I am sure that his love for you is strong. Nothing has really changed.” The smitten young man was overcome with emotion as he looked at her large and expressive grey eyes and her pouting lips. He put his arm around her to comfort her, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder and sighing, grateful for his sensitivity while she was feeling so emotional. Ned could not help himself, she was just too beautiful, and he turned his head to brush her lips. Arya responded, and in a moment they were sharing a gentle kiss. He turned to face her, and they embraced chest to breast as they extended the sweet kiss, and soon they were tangling tongues.

The wolf girl had welcomed Ned’s kiss because he looked so much like Aegon and she was attracted to him and felt comfortable with him. He had gazed at her with admiration during their long conversation and he had been so understanding when she broke down upon hearing the truth about Jon. It had been too long since she had been intimate with anyone, and she craved the attention. Arya told herself, trying to be strong, _I am **not** going to end up naked with this boy, begging him to kiss my breasts, or, Gods! to give me the Lord’s Kiss! I must stop **now** before it is too late!_

With a tremendous effort of will power, she gently removed her tongue from Ned’s mouth and her arms from their embrace, slowly breaking contact with him. The enchanted boy was blinking at her as she softly said, “Thank you, Ned, I appreciate your concern, and am most grateful for your affection, but we must stop now. I am betrothed to Prince Aegon and any further intimacy between us would be unseemly.”

Lord Ned was a true gentlemen and nodded, letting her go without protest after kissing the top of her head, simply saying, “If there is anything you require, dear lady, I am yours to command.”

Arya made her way to the pavilion that she shared with Sarra and Lady Nym; Nymeria padding in quietly behind her. The smirking maiden looked up from her bed and said, “My, you are back early. Obviously you did not get any satisfaction from handsome Lord Dayne.” Sarra continued to tease the younger girl she knew so well. “You have been out of sorts for days, therefore you must be horny. What are you going to do about it now?

The she-wolf grinned at her companion and retorted, “It’s not what _I’m_ going to do, but what _you_ are going to do!” She stepped out of her silks and jumped on top of the squealing girl, thrusting her hands under Sarra’s nightgown, initiating the Princess Xena and Gabrielle tickling game as a prelude to more intimate activity. Agreeable Sarra then gave Arya the attention that she needed to settle her emotions.

Lord Dayne traveled with the Sand Snakes as they journeyed along the Boneway, however, he made no attempt to become intimate with Arya again, and never mentioned their personal moment. The wolf girl appreciated his reserved behavior, but Sarra would smirk when she caught his eye, and Arya had to warn her silently with an angry expression to let it go.

Eventually the party came to the end of the Boneway, and they found themselves at the edge of the Stormlands. Lady Nym turned to her companions and said, “We are entering enemy country, but should not encounter any hostile forces until we meet up with my sister. In any case, we may be fighting Tyrells soon enough, so prepare yourselves for battle.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Winterfell is a hotbed of activity!


	50. Winterfell

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 50 Winterfell

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The adolescents at Winterfell were getting to know each other better, and some interesting relationships were forming. Between classroom lessons and weaponry training, the practice yard was the best place to meet informally, and assess their personalities, especially for the boys. There were exceptions, though, and among the girls, Lyanna and Meera were frequently present in the yard. Meera preferred to spar with Bran, who was more her size, and with Robb, who was careful with smaller opponents. She avoided Gendry, who was a giant compared to the crannogwoman, and Theon, who made her blush with his flirtatious nature. Her brother, Jojen, rarely handled a blade, but attended Meera and Bran constantly.

Lyanna Mormont, however, surprised the boys. She loved to spar and would take on all comers, making up for her smaller size with speed and ferocity. Her skill was advanced enough to keep an opponent on his toes, and not think that he would win simply by using his larger size and strength. The lads found the she-bear fascinating; she was always in a good humor while sparring, and did not pout if she lost. She laughed often, was clever, and could return a jape quickly and with more wit than her partner, usually delivered with a dangerous thrust and parry.

Although she was the smallest and youngest of the maidens, her figure was as womanly as Sansa’s. She did not flirt nor wear revealing clothing, but she was well aware that the boys were always checking out her form, and they did not intimidate her in the slightest. Lyanna appeared to possess a wealth of self-confidence, but was not at all conceited. She seemed to be enjoying all her activities at Winterfell and was good company.

Early on, Lyanna met Meera in the training yard face to face for the first time. They had seen each other in the Great Hall and at lessons, but had not yet had an opportunity to have a private conversation. The two girls eyed each other with curiosity, having realized that they both were not typical highborn ladies. Lyanna wore a gown, but it was more practical than elegant, covering her torso right to her throat. The hem did not drag on the ground, but ended at her ankles, revealing her boots, and giving her more freedom of movement. The she-bear liked to wear her long brown hair loose, but the strands close to her face were braided and tied together at the back of her head. Meera wore a boiled leather outfit of tunic and breeches, and her hair was bound into a long braid. Although Meera was several years older than Lyanna, the compact crannogwoman was the same height as the she-bear. Meera was a woman grown, but Lyanna’s shapely body actually appeared more mature than her slender one.

“You wear a sword, as do I,” Meera observed.

“Aye, we are the only girls here who do so,” Lyanna nodded.

“My father, Lord Reed, believes that a girl should be able to protect herself.”

“My mother desires that I study swordplay, for the women of House Mormont are all raised to be warriors alongside the men. I suggest we spar together, as most of the boys like to demonstrate their strength, and fight without any finesse when facing a girl. I accept that most boys are stronger than me, but I wish they didn’t have to keep trying to prove it,” Lyanna complained.

“Aye, boys often act very stupid around girls and that is maddening when all one wants is to be treated as an equal,” Meera agreed. They practiced footwork, countering and parrying, learning each other’s style. “How do you get on with Sansa and Jeyne?” Meera asked in a curious voice.

“They are really girly-girls, but they don’t treat me too badly,” Lyanna replied.

“Lady Catelyn bade me consult them about proper ladylike behavior,” Meera offered.

“Boooring,” Lyanna rolled her eyes, “If they ask me to join them in needlework, I’ll just say that I have another lesson.” Abruptly she asked, “Are you going to marry Bran?”

Meera looked startled, lowered her sword, and said, “That has not been on my mind. Bran is my brother’s best friend. I don’t think of him in that way.”

Lyanna snorted and rolled her eyes again, “I don’t believe that. Everyone in the castle notices how the pair of you always glance at each other. I heard the handmaidens wondering how long it would be before you sneak into the Godswood for some kissing.”

Meera blushed, “I would never do that!”

Lyanna replied enthusiastically, “Why not? It might be fun. I’d like to take Theon into the Godswood and see if he is as good a kisser as the kitchen maids say he is.”

Meera’s eyes become wide, “Really?”

“Meera, you have three more namedays than I do. Why haven’t you been kissing boys? I kissed several on Bear Island. I have two older sisters, and they told me all about boys.”

Meera lowered her eyes, “There were no boys I liked at Greywater Watch. I have no sisters and no one with whom to discuss such matters.”

Lyanna laughed, “Well, there are lots of nice boys here. You should make up for lost time. All the servant girls wish Gendry would kiss them, but he is stuck on Sansa Stark. Personally, I think that Squire Adrian is cute, but I don’t think he has any balls. I would like to take him for a private walk and find out. All he wants to do is hang out with Sansa and Jeyne.”

Meera wasn’t really listening, “Do you think that Bran really wants to kiss me?”

Lyanna responded, “I’m sure of it, but you will have to make the first move. The boys here are sweet, but stupid. Theon is the only one with the nerve to approach girls, but he is a rogue. I’m going to have to knock some sense into him before I marry him.”

“You are really going to marry him?”

“Why not? My mother thinks it is a good idea and she has a good head for politics. Theon is passably handsome, and has a nice smile and a sense of humor. He is a bit conceited, but he does have good fighting skills. Theon may be lazy, but he is not really stupid. The maids say that he really knows how to pleasure a woman, and that will be an advantage if I can keep him out of the brothel.”

Meera’s jaw had dropped at the turn of the conversation. Obviously no one had ever spoken to her about these matters before.

Seeing her shocked expression, Lyanna asked, “Meera, have I offended you?”

“Oh, no, it’s just that what you are talking about is all new to me.”

“Well, then you should drag Bran into the Godswood post haste and catch up with the rest of us girls,” Lyanna smirked, “I’ll be happy to give you any advice, if you want some. Mayhaps I can distract Jojen so you can get Bran alone.”

Meera smiled, “I think that we are going to be good friends.”

“I agree,” Lyanna grinned, “We are unique among the girls here.”

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Lady Stark got her wish, and Ned returned promptly from his trip. As promised, he helped his lady wife with the lordly education of the youths in preparation for the feast. As the primary adults of Winterfell conversed over dinner in the Great Hall, Ned quietly chuckled that the grilled filet Catelyn seemed to be enjoying so much was from a 30 pound pike Ned hooked and Jory netted in a refreshing mountain stream that had been one of the objectives of their brief excursion. Upon entering the castle, he had quickly brought the fish to the kitchens before his wife saw it. She had not been happy about his escape from duty, and the sight of his catch would not have improved her mood. Lady Stark was still miffed, and gave her lord husband the cold shoulder at night, and Ned felt neglected and missed her affection, especially of the physical variety.

Catelyn, Maester Luwin, and Ser Rodrik were discussing the adolescents, and Catelyn, having a better grasp of the big picture than the men surrounding her, pointed out that with Robb, Theon, and Gendry present, they were responsible for the likely future leaders of three of the seven Great Houses of Westeros. She added that with Arya’s connection to the Royal House Targaryen and House Martell of Dorne, Winterfell was the seat of hope of a total of five of the Seven Kingdoms. Maester Luwin looked appropriately serious at her remarks, as did Ser Rodrik, and Ned who had been distracted by the sumptuous meal, eventually picked up on the direction of the conversation.

Lady Catelyn and Maester Luwin, while discussing the educational progress of the various youths, began complaining about Theon. Considering that the squid prince could become the lord to the Iron Islands, he showed little interest in his future role or his rank, and spent his instructional time japing and teasing the girls.

Ser Rodrik reflected on his role with the young people and was glad that his was not as problematic as it was for Lady Stark and the maester. All the boys were enthusiastic about sparring, as were Meera and Lyanna, and the atmosphere at the armory was usually lively and focused. As for Theon, the master-at-arms was grateful that he had no complaints. Weapons’ training was the one activity that Theon took seriously, and he usually worked hard in the practice yard. In fact, Theon was by far the best archer of the lot, and took pride in his skill. Ser Rodrik could count of him to take the lead in archery training of the other youths. The only downside was that Theon was a compulsive flirt, and when he had his arms wrapped around a maiden, showing her how to hold and use a bow, he could not resist standing very close and murmuring unseemly comments into her ear. Ser Rodrik remembered how Theon even teased ten year old Arya, who rolled her eyes, called him stupid, and punched his shoulder when he became too obnoxious. Theon startled Sansa so much that her arrows invariably struck the stable walls and not the target, and she would scold him sharply and order him to concentrate on the lesson. Meera wore a determined face, clenched her jaw, ignored his japes, and focused on perfecting her skill with his advice. In contrast, Lyanna seemed to invite his attention, teased him suggestively with a grin and flashing eyes, and practically dared him to become improper with her, and the baffled boy was wary.

Ser Rodrik spoke to Lyanna and Meera separately, explaining that there was no way he could teach them the use of a heavy broadsword, but he could help train them to be experts with a shortsword, and focused on their speed and agility. “You must avoid a soldier in full plate armor, but I can show you how to exploit the weak points of an opponent wearing boiled leather and partial armor.”

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Early one morning Meera heard a light knock on her door. Swinging it open, she was surprised to see Lyanna standing there with a very worried expression. “Meera,” she said, her lower lip trembling, “when I awoke this morning, there was blood on my sheets. My mother and sisters told me to expect that this would happen sometime soon, but they are not here. I don’t know what to do, and I am embarrassed for the mess.”

“Don’t be ashamed,” the older girl told her, pulling her into the room and hugging her, “I will help you, and later we will go tell Lady Catelyn.” Then she smiled, “You are a woman grown now, and won’t be treated as a child anymore.”

Catelyn also smiled at Lyanna and was sympathetic and understanding when she was told the news, and she instructed the handmaidens to handle the younger girl like Sansa, Jeyne, and Meera now. She told Lyanna that she would send a raven to her lady mother, and as her ten and third nameday was approaching, she would probably be receiving some grown-up type gifts. Lyanna’s eyes were lowered and she muttered that she did not want to cause a scene or attract attention, but Lady Stark said, with watering eyes, “Nonsense, you are becoming an adult and this is a special time in your life. You deserve the attention.” Catelyn was being sentimental because she had recently received a raven from Arya in Dorne, a packet of parchment with nothing but a blue rose inside. Lady Stark later informed her husband that their younger daughter had flowered. The couple pondered how this would affect everyone’s lives, and wistfully discussed how most of their children were growing up.

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The appointed date was approaching for the feast that Lady Catelyn had planned for the Stark bannermen. The Winterfell youths would take this opportunity to show their knowledge of etiquette, dancing, and courtly behavior. Some were getting excited, as Sansa, Jeyne, Lyanna, Robb, Theon, and Adrian all loved to dance. Gendry and Meera were nervous, but Catelyn had drilled them until they felt confident with the steps to various dances.

Lady Stark had sent ravens to the Northern lords and their ladies, suggesting that they bring their offspring also, hinting future matches could be in the offing. Clever Lyanna got wind of the contents of the message first, and immediately went to inform Sansa and Meera, angrily muttering, “It is to be a meat market!”

Sansa responded, “Well, if Mother intends to put us on display, we will play our part in this farce by wearing very tight corsets. Everyone will notice that!”

Jeyne looked at her friend shrewdly and said, “Sansa, you have been getting quite bold of late. You have challenged your lady mother several times since we have returned.”

Young Lady Stark replied, “I am a woman grown now, and Arya told me that making a bold stand often has its rewards. It worked for her at Harrenhal.”

When Lady Catelyn saw how the girls had dressed for the feast, she complained about their unseemly attire. Sansa stood tall and told her mother, “Well, it is _your_ idea to display us as livestock.”

Catelyn scowled, “The bodices of your gowns are indecent, your teats are almost exposed.”

Stubborn Sansa replied, “That is by design. I have watched men staring at my cleavage since I had ten and one namedays, why should I start hiding my bosom now? Besides, I have adjusted our smallclothes so that no one will actually appear improperly.”

Catelyn had been right - Lyanna received a nameday gift from her mother, some heirloom jewelry that had belonged to her grandmother. The set included beautiful earrings and a fine golden necklace with a bear pendant. Sansa told her it would look nice with her gown at the feast.

The girls were all excited, and Sansa gushed, “We will _all_ be beautiful for the feast!”

Lyanna replied, “Please don’t lie to me. I know that I can never be beautiful. My complexion is too pale, I don’t have plump lips like yours, and my eyes are too small for my face.”

Sansa and Jeyne looked at each other knowingly, and Sansa told the younger girl, “Posh, with the right makeup you _will_ be beautiful. We just need to design your color palate.”

“Color palate? Whatever are you talking about?” a puzzled Lyanna queried.

“At Harrenhal, we met Sarra Martell from Dorne. She taught us all about applying makeup according to one’s personal color palate.”

“Who is Sarra Martell?” Lyanna asked curiously.

Sansa and Jeyne shared another significant look. “Sarra is an apprentice Sand Snake. Dornish Sand Snakes are women who are experts in both the arts of love _and_ war. Sarra is deadly with knives and dangerously seductive. All the boys at Harrenhal admired her. All I have to do is mention her name and Gendry still gets flustered.”

Jeyne added, “Sansa’s little sister, Arya, is also training to be a Sand Snake in Dorne, and Sarra is teaching her the art of love. We saw Arya in action at Harrenhal, and she had the same effect on boys as Sarra did. _And_ , she is almost as skilled with a sword as any squire.”

“I have no idea what my sister will be like the next time I see her,” Sansa muttered, then changed the subject, “Now, let’s see what we can do for you.” She studied Lyanna’s face carefully, pondering out loud. “Aye, you have a typical Northerner’s pale skin. If we use a blush that is too dark it will be obvious, and we want the effect to be subtle.”

From her vanity, Sansa selected a pot of dense powder and a brush, and started applying makeup. “Here, we will lightly color your forehead, cheekbones, and chin a soft pink. There, you no longer appear so pallid. And I’ll use a slightly darker shade of pink lipstick and apply it just a little wider than your lips. Now I’m setting off your eyes with eye shadow and eyeliner that is a light brown with just a hint of navy blue.” Sansa stood back and looked at her handiwork, “There! I’m done. What do you think, Jeyne? Lyanna, go look in the mirror now.”

Jeyne smiled and gave a nod of approval as Lyanna looked into the large mirror on the wall. The she-bear gasped; she did not recognize the pretty face that gazed back at her. She was familiar with the nice brown hair framing the face, but the features in the mirror were very attractive and showed no hint of the plain pale face that she was so used to seeing every day. Lyanna exclaimed, “Sansa, you are a magician! This is amazing!”

Sansa just responded modestly, “It was not that difficult. I may not be as good with sums as Maester Luwin would like, but makeup is one thing at which I am successful.” Then she grinned with mischief in her eye, “There is one more thing that Sarra told me not to forget. I must apply the same blush to your exposed bosom above the bodice of your gown. Sarra said that men _always_ notice that!”

“Thank you, Sansa, I can’t wait to go to the feast!” the young girl giggled, “Please do Meera’s makeup now! She deserves to profit from your skill, too. I will go get her!” And Lyanna scampered to the crannogwoman’s chambers to fetch her friend.

Jeyne grinned at her companion, “Who knows, Sansa, you may turn those tomboys into proper little ladies. Soon they will start reading love stories with us in the library.”

Sansa let out an unladylike snort, “I doubt that, Jeyne. Arya wears makeup and fine silk robes now, but her attitude is still as aggressive and fierce as her direwolf, and any interest in romantic literature is completely lacking.”

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Catelyn was pleased to see that many of major Stark bannermen were arriving with their ladies and youngsters. Apparently she was not the only one with an interest in exploring the possibility of arranged matches. Lord Rickard Karstark of Karhold brought his son, Harrion, and daughter, Alys, both of an age similar the youths at Winterfell. Ser Wylis Manderly and his wife, Leona, arrived with their teenage daughters, Wynafryd and Wylla. Ser Wylis was the heir to his father, Wyman Manderly, the Lord of White Harbor, who was vastly fat and extremely rich, and unable to travel.

Ser Helman Tallhart, Master of Torren’s Square, brought his daughter, Eddara, and his brother, Leobald, came with his wife, Berena, and his sons, Brandon and Beren. Torghen Flint, an important chief of the mountain clans, arrived with his younger son, Artos. “Old Flint”, as he was called, would consider it a coup if his son married into one of the noble families of the more civilized southern region of the North. Artos himself, was eager to meet the highborn maidens that were present.

Lady Mage Mormont of Bear Island was away on a hunting trip and sent her apologies, stating that her daughter Lyanna would represent her House. She had been very pleased to learn how well Lyanna was adapting to Winterfell. Catelyn had reluctantly agreed with the she-bear that Lyanna and Theon had the potential of being a good match and was observing their interactions.

No celebration was complete without Jon Umber, Lord of the Last Hearth, called the Greatjon, the most jovial man in the North, and most loyal bannerman. His son, Jon, was married, but had no children yet.

Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, an old and influential House, did not attend, much to the relief of the other lords, as he was shrewd and secretive, and vastly unpopular. He flayed his smallfolk and captives for their supposed crimes, and as cruel was the practice was, Roose was known to enjoy the acts of torture. However, he did send his natural son, Ramsey, who he had recently legitimized and made his heir. It was said that Ramsey was as cruel and vicious as his father.

The feast began as nicely as Catelyn had planned. She approved of the youths’ table manners and the polite small talk they made with their neighbors during the dinner. She was proud that they all performed as proper little lords and ladies. The only hitch she observed, which was a minor one, was how all the males present were mesmerized by the effect of the tight corsets worn by the young women. Sansa had arranged it so that they looked like they were about to explode out of their bodices, even Meera, who possessed a very slender build. Lady Stark was miffed at how her daughter had challenged her, and intended to discuss her attitude later.

After the pies and other desserts were served, and after-dinner drinks were poured, the musicians warmed up, and tables were pushed to the walls to make room for dancing.

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Lyanna danced first with Gendry, intending to help the young smith work through his nervousness, as he had never before attended a ball. Her small hand disappeared into his huge one, and the tall lad had to bend over to grasp her waist for the waltz. Lyanna smiled at him and whispered encouraging instructions as they danced, but he looked panicked the whole time. _He may be as large as a grown man, she thought, but he is as shy as a greenboy with every girl except for Sansa._ What she did not realize was that in Gendry’s mind, with her long brown hair, expressive eyes, and outgoing personality, Lyanna reminded him of Arya, and he still had not sorted out his feelings for the wolf girl.

Then Lyanna danced with Robb, who was performing his role as the future lord of Winterfell, politely stating that she looked very nice and was a worthy representative of her noble House. After Robb, she danced with Lord Stark, who was in a very good mood, and as he smiled down at her and looked her over, (and Lyanna was pleased that he did not seem to be leering at her), said that she was a welcome addition to the atmosphere of the castle, that he admired her spirit, and that she reminded him of his younger daughter Arya. “I hear that a lot,” the she-bear replied.

In contrast to courteous Lord Stark, when Lyanna danced with the Greatjon, he plainly ogled her low-cut bodice, and remarked suggestively with a wide grin, “You are certainly a Mormont.”

“And you are certainly an Umber,” the intrepid girl hissed, “as coarse as wool from a mountain sheep.”

The Greatjon laughed loudly, spinning her around and lifting her in the air, replying, “You are as bold and witty as your lady mother! I am pleased that we are allies, for I fear if we were not, you would have stabbed me for my impertinence!” When the dance was over, he released her and bowed with respect before moving away.

At that moment, Theon approached Lyanna, saying, “My lady, you appear very pretty today.”

“That is only the paint you admire, not me, Theon. You can thank Sansa for the effort,” Lyanna responded with a snort, “and besides, you only wanted to get a better view of my cleavage.”

“Actually, I was curious as to the nature of the charm on your necklace,” he smirked.

Lyanna was wearing her gifted jewelry for the occasion, and the tight corset had caused her necklace to disappear into the deep chasm between her breasts.

“Why don’t you fish it out?” she replied with a grin and flashing eyes.

Theon delicately took hold of the golden chain between his thumb and index finger and gently lifted it out of her bodice.

“See, it is a bear, of course,” she informed him.

“The bear has a smile on his face.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Lyanna retorted, waggling her eyebrows.

“Ha! I imagine so, my lady,” Theon laughed, “May I have this next waltz with you, so I may continue to gaze upon that impressive valley?”

“You are a cad, but aye, you may have this dance.”

After the waltz, Theon went to get a cup of wine, and found himself watching Lyanna happily dancing with other lordlings of the Stark bannermen. There was no doubt that the girl was a spitfire, had plenty of self-confidence, and was charming as well. The squid prince realized that he was becoming jealous, and at his next opportunity, he asked to dance with her again. As he held her, he blurted out, “I must confess that I do not like watching those other lads dancing with you.”

Lyanna snorted again and replied, “Apparently this new emotion of jealousy did not prevent you from caressing the arse of that serving girl who passed in front of you.”

“Old habits die hard, my dear, it means nothing,” Theon deflected the accusation smoothly, “why don’t we take a stroll after this dance?”

“All right,” Lyanna responded, looking at him warily.

They kissed softly in the Godswood, both aware that it was the first time, pressing their lips together but barely touching tongues, while holding each other loosely. Theon noticed that the girl smelled like a pine forest and that he enjoyed the sensation of embracing her. “Wasn’t that sweet?” Lyanna murmured into his throat when they moved their faces apart, content with the warmth their bodies shared.

“Aye, Lyanna, that was delicious, and _you_ are sweet, but your kisses won’t keep me from visiting Wintertown.”

The she-bear punched his arm with some force, snapping, “You are impossible!”

Theon winced and rubbed his throbbing shoulder. The small girl was actually quite strong, “A man has needs, my lady.”

“You are not a man, Theon! You have only ten and four namedays! You are only an arrogant boy!” Lyanna retorted with some venom in her voice.

“Mayhaps my needs are greater than the average boy, then,” he coolly replied.

She crossed her arms angrily and spat, “I hope your cock falls off!”

Now Theon grinned widely, waggling his eyebrows, “Noooo, you don’t really wish that.”

It was Lyanna’s turn to laugh, “Mayhaps you are right. I don’t wish that to happen, but you are still a rogue!”

They became quiet again, enjoying the peacefulness of their embrace. Theon said, “You know, you _do_ look nice, in that fancy gown and make-up for the feast.”

Lyanna frowned and said, “This corset is so tight that I think my breasts will pop out at any moment.”

Theon’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped at that remark.

Noticing his reaction, Lyanna grinned up at him, “You would like that, wouldn’t you? What would you do if my breasts _did_ pop out?”

It was just what he had been dreaming about at night, and Theon was speechless.

“I wager you have even been wondering what my teats look like.”

He certainly had, and his brain was becoming incoherent.

“When you tell me that you belong to me and stop fooling around, mayhaps I will show you.” Lyanna continued, “Let’s return to the Great Hall now. I want you to dance with Meera and tell her how nice she looks, but don’t get obnoxious. And tell that idiot Bran to give her some attention, too. You are clever, see if you can help us get them together. Boys can be so thickheaded.”

Theon stared at her, “You have no reservations about ordering me around, do you?”

Lyanna smiled, “Of course not. We seem to have an understanding, even if you have not admitted that you love me yet. And if I ordered you to do something that you really didn’t want to do, I expect that you would tell me so.”

Theon shook his head, “Lady Lyanna, you scare me. I fear that you are smarter than me.”

Lyanna laughed at his pained expression, “That is the most intelligent thing you have ever said!” Seizing his hand, she continued, “Let’s go back! I am having so much fun!”

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Lyanna soon found herself dancing with Squire Adrian, noticing that he was nervous and his hands were sweaty. She leaned close and whispered, “Let’s go for a walk,” leading him by the hand into the Godswood. She saw that he kept stealing glances at her bosom, so she subtly moved closer and without speaking, invited him to kiss her. When he embraced her and did so, she snaked her hand down into his breeches and squeezed his smallclothes. _Oh, he **does** have the total package!_ She realized, as she discovered a growing sapling and a pair of walnuts.

Adrian squeaked at her touch, ( _he squeaked_! Lyanna thought with surprise) and loudly asked, “What was _that_ all about?”

Lyanna smirked, “I wanted to see if you had any balls. I wasn’t sure.”

Adrian became angry with her insolent remark, “I _knew_ that you doubted my masculinity after you bested me at sparring! I am as much a man as any other lordling here! In fact, last night I dreamt that you were in my bed and we were playing the sword and sheath, and you were moaning my name!”

“Really, you dreamt that?” Lyanna was impressed by his intensity.

“Aye!” the agitated squire responded, and to prove his point, he pulled her into a tighter embrace, pressed his body closer to her so that their torsos became very intimate, and initiated a deep tongue kiss. Lyanna was delighted with the emotion that the usually placid boy expressed, and eagerly responded.

She wasn’t enamored with Adrian, but the physical contact was entertaining, and she was enjoying herself. When they came up for air, panting heavily, Lyanna could not help but tease, “You are not really obsessed with me, but with Arya Stark. Lady Sansa told me that you crushed on her at Harrenhal, and that many of the boys here notice that I resemble her.”

“It is true that I thought I loved Lady Arya, but it definitely was _you_ that invaded my dreams last night,” Adrian admitted with a guilty expression.

“Well, I don’t want to burst your bubble, but I don’t really want to do any sheathing of swords with _you_. Besides, you are supposed to be Jeyne Poole’s sweetheart! You better get your head on straight, Adrian; you can’t have all of us! Come, now that I have thoroughly confused you, we should return to the Great Hall. I’ll wager that Jeyne has noticed your absence, and is concerned.” She took the baffled boy’s hand again and led him out of the Godswood, only dropping it as they drew near the dancers.

Quietly, Lyanna approached Sansa, who was between dances and sipping a cup of watered wine, and whispered, “You have to help me fix my makeup!”

Sansa noticed how smeared it was. “Who have you been kissing?” she asked conspiratorially. Lyanna wouldn’t say, which made Sansa very intrigued, and she raised her eyebrows at the younger girl, but took her aside and tried to repair her paint.

Lyanna told her, “I promise that we will talk later,” and Sansa looked pleased.

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As the eldest daughter of the liege lord of the North, Lady Sansa’s dance card was full. She danced with Harrion Karstark, both Tallhart lads, and Artos Flint. All the lordlings found an opportunity to dance with Jeyne, knowing that she was Sansa’s closest companion, and pumped her for information about Sansa. As expected, they had become entranced with the beautiful girl.

Artos Flint had never seen such finery and beauty as bedecked Winterfell’s Great Hall, and thought that he had entered a magic kingdom and that Lady Sansa was a fairy tale princess. _I wish I could wed Lady Sansa and stay here for ever and ever!_ He thought with dreamy eyes.

Squire Adrian was required to dance with the visiting maidens, but he did find time to dance with Jeyne, too. She had enjoyed the attention of the lordlings, but felt most comfortable with Adrian. She noticed that he seemed to be distracted, and she assumed that was a result of all the activity during the feast.

The lords all asked their hostess and liege lady Catelyn to dance, and she agreed, as was proper, but she did make an effort to observe as much of the youthful interactions as possible. She saw that Gendry was making a tremendous effort to dance with every maiden, and they all seemed to swoon over the handsome boy, but he only seemed comfortable with Sansa in his arms. Sasha danced with all the lordlings, and it was obvious that they were captivated by her beauty, but Catelyn frowned while noticing that every male was well aware of the prominent bosoms of the Winterfell girls in their too-tight corsets. Artos Flint, the son of a mountain chief, was so out of his element that his eyes had glazed over while dancing with Sansa and was now walking around in a daze.

Lady Stark watched her oldest son Robb dancing with Wynafryd and Wylla Manderly, Alys Karstark, and the other highborn maidens. She realized that Robb, as heir to Winterfell, would be a considered a great catch for any of their sworn Houses, and pondered if any of the young ladies present would be worthy good-daughters, or if Robb should wed a member of another Great House. Catelyn sighed, these matters weighed heavily on her mind. However, she was entertained by one small drama playing out at the feast: Theon Greyjoy’s irreverent and flirtatious behavior had always annoyed her, and she was vastly amused that he had met his match in the little spitfire, Lyanna Mormont, who seemed to occupy his attention this evening. Lady Stark enjoyed watching the conceited youth being brought to his knees by a female. Of course, the proper lady would have been shocked if the practical she-bear had informed her that one of Theon’s characteristics that appealed to her was his reputation as a cocksman.

Ramsey Bolton had his eyes on the highborn ladies, and he coolly asked to dance with Sansa. She assented, and noticed that the heir to the Dreadfort was arrogantly handsome and well-muscled. However, he had cold, reptilian eyes, and she was uncomfortable with the way he assessed her. She felt more like a sheep, and _he_ was the hungry wolf. Ramsey had raked his eyes over her curves as he approached her, and blatantly admired her cleavage as he held her in his arms.

Without any pretense at civility, he told her with an evil grin, “Lady Sansa, I hear that you have a fondness for bastards. Let me offer myself as a better match than that Flea Bottom scum that followed you home from King’s Landing. I am legitimized and will inherit a noble House. You must realize that the filthy smith has few prospects.”

Sansa’s back stiffened and she leaned back from the impertinent lordling. She returned his cold gaze and stated with some venom, “Ramsey, you know little of what you speak of, and I do not approve of your patronizing attitude. Please let me go.”

Ramsey smiled wickedly and gripped her hand and waist tighter, spinning her around with the music, “Oh no, the dance is not over and I want to hold you longer. Besides, if I left you now, it would be obvious that we had a quarrel.”

Robb was taking a break and having a cup of watered wine. He noticed his sister’s discomfort, and came to her rescue. “Pardon me, Ramsey, but I am going to step in here. I have had few opportunities to dance with my dear sister, and I desire a spin with her before another maiden claims me. I believe that Wylla Manderly is looking for a partner, and that wealthy maiden deserves some attention.” Robb smoothly moved between the couple and danced away with Sansa.

Sansa rewarded her brother with an expression of gratitude, and said, “I could kiss you, Robb. I do not think that I could stand another minute with that awful boy.”

“Actually, Sansa,” Robb smiled at her, “I stepped in to protect Ramsey. Look over at Gendry, his fists are clenched and in another minute he might have dissembled the brat into tiny pieces. Mother would not like an ugly incident to occur during her party.” He tilted his head towards Gendry, who was staring at Ramsey and wearing the most murderous look on his face that she had ever seen.

After their dance and with Sansa safely in the arms of Harrion Karstark again, Robb told a trusted guard to keep an eye on Ramsey. The guard responded that Captain Jory had previously given that order.

Ramsey was clever and devious. Since his arrival at Winterfell, his ears had been receptive to any gossip he heard, from both nobles and smallfolk, about the members at court with whom he had limited familiarity. Eventually, after accosting some of the other noble maidens, he requested to dance with Meera. The girl agreed warily, but responded with limited small talk as he attempted to engage her in conversation. He did not spent much time with the young crannogwoman, noting the sharp knife that she wore on her belt and her suspicious attitude.

After leaving Meera, he approached Lyanna and asked her to dance. She also assented, but fixed him with the same wary expression that Meera had worn. Ramsey openly leered at her breasts, with no pretense of modesty, and after dancing for a while and holding her with one hand lower than proper on her back, he murmured into her ear that she was quite fetching and suggested that they take a walk in the Godswood. He purred, “I know that you are an adventurous lass, and I believe you will appreciate my skill with a sword.”

Lyanna immediately pushed him away, which was not ignored by nearby dancers, and her eyes flashed with hate as she spat, “My lady mother told me all about you Boltons, and I have no desire to be intimate with you!” She put her hand on the pommel of her own sword, which she had insisted on wearing, stating that the men did so, and continued, “If you dare to make another lewd remark to me, I will surely geld you!” Before Ramsey could react, she drew a hidden dagger from her sleeve and swept it in the general direction of his crotch, only intending to scare him and not make contact. Ramsey moved away quickly out of fear and to avoid a scene, as there were several witnesses to his humiliation.

Lyanna watched him leave, and did not return her blade to its sheath until he was out of sight. An admiring Artos Flint approached and requested to continue the interrupted waltz. The she-bear observed that the mountain boy possessed an outdoorsy nature similar to hers, and smiled sweetly at him and offered her hand, and Artos became enthralled with another lass.

After speaking to the guard, Robb noticed that Jory was carefully observing the proceedings, and he eventually went to quietly thank the captain for protecting the girls, especially from Ramsey. Jory nodded and put two fingers to his forehead in a salute to his lord and said, “You can trust my men, young wolf, but most likely the she-bear will remove the threat if he is foolish enough to try anything,” pointing with his other hand to the sight of Ramsey fleeing in terror from a determined Lyanna.

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Late in the evening, Ned was dancing with his lady wife, and Catelyn seemed to be in a very good mood because the feast appeared to be successful. She had rebuffed his advances since the hunting trip, and he smiled at her and praised her talent for organizing such a fine feast. Catelyn smiled warmly back, and apologized for her recent coldness towards him. Ned boldly squeezed her arse, and whispered in her ear that he anticipated being alone with her afterwards, and using his lips, hands, and mouth to give her pleasure, and expected her to do the same. Lady Stark had joined many toasts during the evening and was slightly drunk on Arbor Gold, so she giggled and swatted his hand away, and hissed at him to be patient and mayhaps he would get his wish. Ned inwardly sighed with relief, _Ah, life is returning to normal!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To recap: Arya is channeling Xena the Warrior Princess and tangling tongues with Ned Dayne, Catelyn is heavily into matchmaking, Sansa is becoming independent, Theon is being challenged, Lyanna is the new ‘it’ girl, and a new villain has appeared. Oh, that’s right, there is a war going on! I should return to the action around King’s Landing and the Reach.


	51. The Battle of the Roseroad

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 51 The Battle of the Roseroad

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Lady Nym, Sarra, and Arya sat astride their sand steeds at the northern end of the Boneway, observing the landscape that was revealed to them. The Red Mountains of Dorne were behind them. To the northeast and on their right lay the dense forests of the Stormlands, the seat of House Baratheon. The Stormlands were in turmoil, as its lords were divided as to which faction they should support – Lord Renly, the younger brother of the late King Robert, or King Joffrey, Robert’s son, who was suspected of being the result of an incestuous union between Queen Cersei and her brother, Ser Jaime Lannister.

To the northwest and on their left lay the plains of the Reach, the most fertile agricultural region of Westeros. The foodstuffs growth in the Reach had made House Tyrell enormously wealthy, and besides the rich Lannisters, the most desired ally in the land. Directly in front of them, but beyond their vision, lay their objective – King’s Landing. Nym’s small party had stopped next to the ominous ruins of Summerhall, and the Sand Snake glanced up at it and told Arya, “Aegon’s father, Prince Rhaegar, was born here, but it was not truly a fortunate event, as the castle was destroyed in a huge fire that very same day. Nevertheless, the prince loved this place, and returned often, sometimes simply to play his harp and reflect on his life. I hope our memories of passing here will be more pleasant.”

Lady Nym then pointed to the northwest, saying, “That is where her sister, Obara, is fighting the Tyrells traveling along the roseroad. Presently, according to her last message, the forces are evenly matched, but with the troops we bring to reinforce the Dornish army, mayhaps the tide will turn in her favor. If Lord Renly joins us, we will surely prevail.”

Although the grasslands were flat and presented no obstacles, the journey was slow, as they traveled with a large contingent of foot soldiers and supply wagons. A full week was required for the army to cross the plains. With thoughts of war darkening their mood, the soldiers gathered quietly around campfires in the evening, eating simple meals. There were no ribald songs, only hushed conversations, as each warrior reflected on the possibility that they might not survive.

Even Lady Nym barely japed, instead she spoke of the history of animosity between the Tyrells and Martells. Although the two kingdoms were neighbors, they had always been enemies. Late in the evening during these campfire gatherings, Ned Dayne would lightly put his arm around Arya, who usually sat close to him. Lost in her thoughts and comforted by the contact, she would lean against his shoulder and put her arm around his waist. Arya felt uncertain, as she was going to war for the first time, and she worried that her training would not be enough to keep her alive. She wanted to represent her family well and mayhaps earn some glory, too. This was to be Ned’s first battle also, and he hoped that he would represent himself and his House with honor. As they quietly talked about their hopes and fears, Ned stroked her arm and back, but their intimacy did not go any further. Arya sensed that he wanted to kiss her again, but she did not encourage him.

As the army approached the war zone, smoke was seen in the distance. When they were close enough to discern the fighting, they saw that the Tyrells had archers behind overturned wagons, and a barrage of arrows kept the Dornish forces at bay. Nym pointed out the heavily armored knights of the Reach riding up and down the column. General Obara’s army could not get close enough to engage with the Dornish advantage, the foot soldiers armed with spears and shields.

Lady Nym’s army of reinforcements arrived at Obara’s camp, and the sisters greeted each other with a brief hug. Nym introduced her companions and Obara nodded a greeting to them. Obara already knew Sarra, and she looked carefully at Arya, eying her direwolf. “So you are the wolf who would be a snake?” Obara inquired.

Arya nodded, “Aye, I have been training hard, and I hope to comport myself well in battle. I have no love for Lannisters or their allies and want to help defeat them.”

Obara smiled, but hers was not really a pleasant countenance, “Well, I see that you speak boldly, and I will welcome to our ranks if you prove your worth.” Then the general actually grinned, “Mayhaps we will bring a victory to the dragon prince we both admire, heh?”

At the mention of Aegon, Arya could not help but blush, knowing that Obara was alluding to her romantic connection to the future king, but she only nodded in reply.

As the sisters discussed the nature of the army that accompanied Lady Nym, Arya had the opportunity to observe the senior Sand Snake. Obara possessed five more namedays than her sister, but the weathered campaigner actually appeared much older. Tall, long-legged, and big-boned, she was as hard and mannish as Nym was soft and feminine, although both were equally dangerous with their weapons of choice. Obara had an impatient nature, and rode an ill-tempered stallion, not a mild-mannered sand steed, and boasted that she could master any horse or man in Dorne. She wore a Dornish silk cloak, but underneath it she was attired in leather riding clothes. Obara was armed with a wicked-looking whip, now coiled at her waist, a long spear, and a round shield was strapped to her back. The daughter of a rough Oldtown whore, her features were coarse, whereas beautiful Nym was of the noblest Volantis blood.

General Obara was all business; she listened to Nym’s description of the force she had brought, which consisted of mounted lords, knights, and spearmen, foot soldiers, and archers. Once she was satisfied with her knowledge of the Dornish fighting strength, she dispatched messengers to her captains, announcing a council meeting. She strode to her pavilion, inviting Nym and her leaders to accompany her. Sarra and Arya attended also, being Lady Nym’s disciples.

Now that she had the numbers, Obara was confident in making a direct assault on the Tyrells, with mounted fighters leading the way, and foot soldiers to follow. The general needed to explain her plan to her captains. The leaders gathered at Obara’s pavilion, where there was a large table in the center of the tent, covered with a map and figurines representing the location and deployment of the forces.

Obara started to speak. “The Tyrell forces are led by Ser Garlan Tyrell, known as Garlan the Gallant, and his many knights and bannermen. The Tyrells are very rich and many of his fighters favor full plate armor, including covering their destriers in metal, also. They appear to be almost invulnerable, so how do we to counter them?”

She paused for a moment and continued. “We have no other option but a direct assault on the column. Our archers will launch a covering fire until our forces are too close for the Tyrell archers to be effective. At that point we can commence face to face fighting, where our spears will hold the advantage. That is, if we can depend on our shields to keep the ‘butcher’s bill’ from the Tyrell archers small. Knights in full plate armor are formidable foes, but our skilled spearmen are trained to thwart that threat.” Timing, troop deployment, and other details were discussed, and the council dissolved so the captains could prepare their forces.

In their pavilion, Lady Nym and her apprentices dressed for battle. Arya wore her warrior woman armor, and Nym and Sarra were in customary silk robes with chain mail undershirts to protect their torsos and arms. Everyone checked their weapons and sharpened their blades one last time. All three women fought with knives and made sure that the equipment belts were adjusted properly on their bodies for quick access. Arya tried to remember everything that Prince Oberon had taught her about countering an opponent with armor. Lastly, Arya reluctantly tied Nymeria to a post inside the pavilion, saying, “I know you want to come, but I fear that you would be most vulnerable to a flight of arrows.” The young warg placed a mental image of dangerous arrows in her wolf’s mind.

They mounted their sand steeds, gently stroking their necks, as the horses were exhibiting some nervousness due to the sudden activity in the camp. Arya had started communicating with Vhagar with more thoughts than words and whistles, and the steed was becoming comfortable with her mental instructions, relaxing under Arya’s influence. Nym, Sarra, and Arya joined the front line of mounted warriors and trotted to the zone that was just beyond of the range of the Tyrell archers and waited for the signal to attack. When the shrill whistle pierced the air, a flurry of arrows was launched and the Dornish army raced towards the column, holding their large round bronze shields over their heads for protection.

The Dornish archers kept up a barrage, but some Tyrell arrows did come through. Arya felt one bounce off her shield and heard another whoosh by her ear. Loud curses and shrieks of pain revealed arrows that landed effectively on a horse or rider, causing some casualties. For the most part, the covering barrage was effective, and the Dornish mounted soldiers were soon close enough to engage the Tyrell forces and harass the archers enough to provide some protection for the foot soldiers that followed.

The lightly armored warrior women avoided the knights, but moved swiftly toward the archers and foot soldiers. Arya extended her spear and an archer screamed and fled before her, but her swiftly thrown knife found the back of his neck. Another stood his ground and faced her, drawing his sword from his belt, but not fast enough as she gutted him with her spear. The she-wolf and the Dornish mounted fighters continued to harass the foot soldiers until several mounted knights came to their aid, galloping up on huge destriers. As she had been taught, Arya maneuvered and evaded these dangerous but unwieldy fighting machines, deflecting sword thrusts with her spear, and throwing knives at their joints, quickly moving out of their range. She was pleased that her constant practicing had prepared her for engagement, and she was not nervous. Vhagar had also been taught evasive action, and Arya sometimes gave the steed mental nudges, which kept the girl safe from swinging blades, for the moment.

One knight singled out the lightly armored girl as his next target, and with a loud snort from his destrier, bore down on her. Arya observed that his helmet protected his entire head, complete with tiny eye slits, but as he moved in his saddle, she noticed a small gap between his gorget and breastplate. The knight swung his broadsword at her and she dodged the blow as in training, attempting to divert his attention with a flurry of knives aimed at his eye slits. The knives could do little damage, but several came close enough to the openings to worry the knight and distract him from his goal.

Arya used his momentary hesitation to make a mighty spear thrust directly into an elbow joint, and he responded with a muffled scream and jerked back, yanking the embedded weapon right out of her hands. As the wounded knight clumsily tried to remove the painful spear with his gauntlet-encased other hand, Arya boldly jumped to the back of the destrier, landing behind the knight. She pulled out a dagger and jammed it into the observed gap in his armor, severing his throat and choking him on his own blood. The dying knight and the blood-covered she-wolf fell off the destrier together, and the nimble girl quickly rolled away, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Quickly jumping to her feet, she realized that she had attracted the attention of several foot soldiers, and had to spar with her shortsword and tumble out of the range of her nearest enemies, acquiring a few minor wounds on her upper arms and thighs in the process. Her right wristband saved her from one particularly nasty thrust. Mentally calling for Vhagar, she mounted the sand steed as soon as she appeared and moved to relative safety, looking for any nearby foes that might harm her.

Having lost her spear, but holding a mounted fighter’s advantage, Arya defended herself with sword and throwing knives, taking every opportunity to avoid anyone who obviously outmatched her. Just as she realized that she was almost too exhausted to fight anymore, the Dornish spearmen arrived and took control of the battle, and she felt relieved.

Scanning the nearby battlefield with her eyes, Arya saw Nym and Sarra on the ground a distance from where she rested. Riding over to them, she was alarmed to see a trembling and blood-covered Sarra being held tightly in her mentor’s arms. The Sand Snake’s greatsword, dripping with blood, was lying next to her, along with a number of dead Tyrell soldiers. Seeing Arya’s distressed expression, Lady Nym explained, “Sarra is not badly wounded, but she was attacked by more soldiers than she could successfully fight off. If I had not been able to come to her aid, she would surely have died here.” Arya quickly dismounted and hugged her good friend, observing that the girl’s eyes were wide with fear and dismay, and she could not speak coherently. Nym continued, “She is in shock right now, but she will survive and be better for the experience. Sand Snakes are tough.”

Lady Nym gently placed Sarra in the arms of a maester, and then looked along the column of wagons, seeing smoke rising and continued intense close fighting. She looked wearily at Arya. “General Obara and the bulk of our mounted forces are still heavily engaged with the Tyrell knights, and this battle is not yet won. Do you think you can ride with me to where we can be effective?”

Arya was almost too tired to fight anymore, but she could not refuse. She nodded her agreement, and then jumped down to grab an abandoned spear. Climbing on her steed again, she took up her reins and followed Nym towards the area of most intense action. The two warrior women met up with Lord Dayne and a few of his companions as they rode. The allies nodded, but avoided conversation. Before they reached the site, they heard loud cheering and saw a large phalanx of armored knights joining Obara’s forces. Arya looked carefully at the banners and saw that they bore a golden stag on a black field. Excitedly, she announced, “Lady Nym, it is Lord Renly Baratheon! He has decided to fight for Prince Aegon!”

Nym smiled, and her relief was obvious. “That is surely good news. With Lord Renly’s assistance, we will carry this day.”

The Sand Snake was soon proved to be right. Obara’s forces, with Nym’s reinforcements and Renly’s small army, eventually began to command the battlefield, and Lord Garlan realized that he and his knights would die if they did not surrender. He called out for his men to throw down their weapons and sent word to all his soldiers along the long column to do the same. General Obara approached Garlan and he presented her with his sword, saying that he expected that he and his troops would be treated with the honor due captured soldiers. Obara nodded and replied that if they no longer intended to oppose Prince Aegon Targaryen’s forces, they would be confined, but not deprived of food, drink, and other basic necessities. Lord Tyrell would be allowed to send word to his family of his surrender, and the dead on the battlefield would be identified and treated with dignity. However, he must realize that the possessions of the dead knights and soldiers were the spoils of war and would be divided among the Dornish fighting men. Lord Garlan had to agree, as that was a battlefield tradition.

Now Nym took a good look at Arya, who was drenched in blood, and ascertained that the girl was not really injured. She asked, “What became of the spear that my father gifted you? Is it broken?”

Her disciple shook her head. “Nae, I left it stuck in the elbow joint of a knight who then bled all over me when I opened his throat.” The young warrior proceeded to describe how she bested a knight in full plate armor.

The Sand Snake’s eyes widened and she said, “Show me!”

Arya retraced her path back to the scene of her first real battle, and found the knight lying in a pool of blood, his destrier standing near his body, munching on grass. He had never managed to remove the spear before he died. Arya jumped down and recovered her weapon, wiping the blade on the grass, and then looked around for any of her knives. She found a few, but not all.

Lady Nym was looking thoughtfully at the dead knight. She turned to the she-wolf and said, “You realize, Arya, that this knight’s armor, weapons, and destrier belong to you now.”

Arya laughed, “What use do I have for these goods?”

“Mayhaps _you_ cannot use them,” Nym responded, “but I wager that his family would be eager to recover his personal possessions, and pay you handsomely to retrieve them. I will have a squire seek out his friends among the prisoners.”

The wolf girl looked doubtful, “I have never really needed any gold dragons.”

Her mentor smiled, “You are growing up, sweetling, and a lady should always have some money of her own. Money is independence to many women.”

General Obara was suitably impressed when her sister told her of Arya’s first battle experience. The stern woman touched the girl’s sand snake arm bracelet and said, “Lady Arya, you have now earned this token and may boast that you are a snake _and_ a wolf! I dare say that you are the first to do so.” She gave the girl a powerful, formal embrace, and continued, “Welcome to the family! My sister’s instincts were right about you!”

Arya returned to her pavilion to change into silk robes, clean her armor and weapons, and treat her light wounds. Nymeria covered her face with kisses, happy to see her mistress again, smelling the blood and the danger that she had been exposed to. After washing and changing, Arya wandered out into the camp, where the soldiers were beginning to celebrate their victory.

At Winterfell and with Golden Company, Arya had listened to the soldiers’ campfire conversations, and the topic often got around to their need for a woman after a battle. When she was younger Arya never understood why they discussed this matter, but now it became clear. After her brush with death, she felt exhilarated and found that she wanted the physical contact of another’s embrace. As she wandered, she saw the soldiers drinking and singing around the campfires, some disappearing with camp followers into tents. Lady Nym was nowhere to be seen, for she was in her pavilion consoling Sarra, as the girl was still very shaken up by her experience.

Arya decided to seek out Ned Dayne. She found him sitting around a campfire quietly speaking to his young squires. When he saw the wolf girl, he smiled and shifted to make room for her. She sat down next to him and japed, “Why are you with your squires and not with one of the many strumpets in camp?”

Ned appeared embarrassed and admitted, “I don’t partake of camp followers. As the oldest surviving male member of my House, that behavior would be considered undignified.” As she had done while traveling on the Boneway, Arya leaned against him, and he wrapped his arm around her, giving her the contact and comfort she obviously wanted. They both were experiencing new emotions, having survived their first battle, detecting a feeling of relief and a need for affection.

As they sat quietly looking into the flames, Ned gently stroked her arm, and Arya suggested with a husky voice, “Ned, why don’t we retire to your pavilion?”

Ned hesitated for a moment, and slowly responded, “But you previously interrupted our last kiss, saying that it was improper.”

Arya bit her lip, recalling their sweet kiss. She replied, “That was before I knew what it was like to fight and kill and leave the battlefield alive. Ned, I _need_ to kiss you again.” The she-wolf stood up and looked at him expectantly. He rose and led her to his pavilion, dismissing his servant.

She sat down on his bed and had an idea. “Ned,” she asked, “would you like to brush out my hair?” Ned sat down next to her and tenderly opened her braids, then combed her hair loose with his fingers, finally spreading the long chestnut locks around her shoulders and over her chest. He looked at her affectionately and leaned in to gently kiss her lips, murmuring, “You are lovely.”

As they kissed, Arya loosened her silk robes, letting them fall from her torso and pool around her hips. She whispered huskily, “You may touch my breasts.”

Ned had never felt anything so delightfully soft and round, and he realized that he had become aroused when he started to caress her teats. Arya’s grey eyes were glowing, and in a pleading voice she begged, “Ned, please kiss my breasts!” The boy quickly complied, first kissing them through her hair, and then parting her locks, took one breast into his mouth while gently squeezing the other, pinching the hardening teat. Arya’s eyes closed and she moaned, “Oh, Ned! Oh, Ned!” She suddenly had the notion of her mother embracing her father and moaning those same words, and she immediately pushed that image into the deepest corner of her mind.

All sense of modesty began to disappear from her consciousness, and just as she was fumbling with the laces of her smallclothes with one hand and trying to guide Ned’s free hand to her mound with the other, Ned pulled his wet mouth from her aching breast and interrupted her thoughts, panting urgently, “Arya! We must not go any farther or we will regret our actions! I could never face the prince without embarrassment if we continue!”

Arya sighed and nodded her agreement, but did not tell him that for a moment she had not cared and had imagined her body frantically writhing underneath his, extracting every ounce of pleasure she could from his cock. Her senses were slowly returning and she adjusted her robes properly, but not before Ned gave her teats one last sweet kiss, proclaiming, “By the gods, you are beautiful! I cannot believe you are actually here!” She lightly kissed him farewell, murmuring that he had given her much pleasure also.

The young warrior woman returned to her pavilion and saw Nym and Sarra embracing in one of the beds, almost asleep. Sarra opened her eyes and smiled, obviously in a better mental state now, and noticing Arya’s loose hair, disheveled appearance, and pensive expression, grinned, “So Lord Ned once again did not satisfy your needs?” She lifted the covers and invited Arya into her bed. “Come, let me console you.” The wolf girl stripped to her smallclothes and lay down. It had been a long, long day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The aftermath of the battle. Or mayhaps back to Winterfell. I’m not sure….


	52. Aftermath of the Battle

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, it is wartime, but romance is in the air. For those readers who wrote that they liked the chemistry between Arya and Ned Dayne, this chapter is for you. But you must realize that the action here is only a prelude to the explosive Arya/Aegon reunion. Also, a new, but familiar, female warrior has been added to the crew, and I hope you like her presence here.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 52 Aftermath of the Battle

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The next morning, Arya woke out of a deep sleep to the sensation of Nymeria’s cold tongue licking her hand, which had been flung over the side of the bed. Blinking her eyes and clearing her mind, she tried to make sense of her present state. She was naked and lying face down on top of a snoring Sarra, whose breast was still in her mouth. Sarra’s hand was between Arya’s legs. Lady Nym was snoring in the other bed. She tried to remember what had happened during the night.

When Lord Dayne had delivered a very frustrated wolf girl to her pavilion, Sarra and Nym had observed her disposition and invited her into their bed to ‘console’ her. Their consolation lasted long enough for Lady Nym to declare that she, for one, intended to get some sleep that night, and moved to the other bed, leaving the younger girls to continue their explorations. Arya had been so unsatisfied with her interrupted tryst with Ned that both girls fell into exhausted slumber only after several hours of affection.

Arya groaned and disentangled herself from the Dornish girl, having to remove Sarra’s fingers from an intimate location. She went to the basin, poured some water, and stuck her face into it, attempting to restore her consciousness. As she dressed, finding her robes and smallclothes scattered all around the floor, Lady Nym stirred and became wakeful quite easily and also started dressing, which did not improve the she-wolf’s mood. “Come,” the Sand Snake told her, “Let us break our fast. I would like to talk to you.” Sarra had not stirred, but continued to snore softly as they left.

Nym looked closely at her disciple as they walked to the captains’ dining pavilion, and spoke without preamble, “Arya, I think you and young Lord Dayne have some unfinished business to work out. If you do not come to some kind of understanding before we reach King’s Landing, you both will be confused and irritated, and it will affect your behavior even when we meet up with Golden Company. Do you know what I mean?”

The young warrior woman bit her lip and replied frankly to her mentor, “I am afraid that the unfinished business that you mention may involve me riding him like a horse, screaming his name at the top of my voice. That must not happen.”

“I agree, it would not be wise for you to couple with him, as much as you think you desire him right now,” Nym advised, “But you cannot solve the problem by avoiding the young man. You will need to speak to him, and if the confrontation dissolves into an intimate situation again, as I suspect it might, you will have to keep your wits about you.” Nym smiled, “Young Ned seems to be doing a good job of just that so far.”

Leaving the dining tent, Nym was cleaning her teeth in the most unladylike way with a toothpick, and said to her young apprentice, “Come, we are going to meet Lord Renly Baratheon.”

The wolf girl mentioned that when she saw him in the battle, he seemed to be gazing all around the field, as if he were searching for someone in particular.

Nym responded, “Aye, he was probably anxious to find his ‘special friend’, Ser Loras Tyrell, and was hoping that the young knight had not become a victim of the battle.”

“By ‘special friend’, do you mean….?” Arya asked curiously.

“Aye, they are lovers, but one does not publically speak of it. Their relationship is meant to be a private matter, and it is not acceptable to many in ‘polite’ society.”

“Oh,” was all Arya could say. The idea of men as lovers was a new concept to her, and she was not familiar with it. Women as lovers were something she understood, but men were a different story.

Arya added, “I recognized him yesterday because from a distance it appeared as if Gendry had joined the battle.”

That remark made Lady Nym smirk, “Aye, young Gendry is as handsome as his uncle. I understand why you would have thought that. Besides, I imagine that you often consider that you have some ‘unfinished business’ with the young smith, too?” And she laughed at her own jape.

The she-wolf gave her mentor a wicked and conspiratorial grin, “Admit it, my lady, you would not be opposed to locking yourself in a chamber with Sarra, myself, and Gendry, and the three of us would take turns abusing him until we were completely satiated, mayhaps wearing out the poor boy’s cock.”

Lady Nym threw her head back and laughed heartily, placing her arm affectionately around Arya’s shoulders, “One can but dream, sweetling, one can but dream.”

After a moment, the Sand Snake addressed the girl again, “Arya, methinks that you have become quite bawdy of late. We definitely need to deliver you to your prince and get you wedded and bedded before anything unfortunate occurs.”

Arya just muttered, “I do not know about ‘wedded and bedded’, but I certainly cannot wait until I see Aegon again. I miss him terribly.”

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They approached Lord Renly’s pavilion, marked by his impressive House banner flapping in the wind above it, and the golden ropes decorating the edges of the fancy tent. The young lord greeted the ladies with a deep bow and kissed their hands, stating that he was honored to meet such beautiful warrior women. He gazed at Arya, saying that he was pleased to make her acquaintance, as Starks and Baratheons were meant to be close friends. Lord Renly commented that she was as stunning as her aunt Lyanna was said to be, and he understood why men like his brother, Robert, and Rhaegar _and_ Aegon Targaryen tripped over themselves in the quest of a Lady Stark’s attention. Arya had heard words like this so often by now that she tried to be polite and not get angry or resentful. She thanked Lord Renly for his complements and let it go.

Now that she was close to him, Arya could really observe the young lord. Renly was definitely as handsome as Gendry, with his long, glossy black hair and his brilliant blue eyes. Although he was almost as tall as Gendry, his shoulders were not as broad, and his figure was strong but not as imposing. He appeared to have seen about twenty namedays, and japed and smiled with the attitude of a pleasant boy.

There was another person in the pavilion, and Arya was surprised to see a very tall blonde knight in full plate armor, complete with a huge greatsword. She was not amazed to see such a knight guarding Lord Renly, only that the knight was a woman! Renly introduced her as Lady Brienne of Tarth, a close friend and the most devoted member of his honor guard. From the way Lady Brienne gazed at Lord Renly as he spoke about her devotion, Arya observed, _I wonder if Lord Renly is aware that this girl is madly in love with him?!_ The wolf girl thought that this situation was very interesting and looked over at her mentor, who merely smiled and slightly raised an eyebrow to signify that she had made the same observation.

Lady Nym thanked Lord Renly for joining General Obara’s forces, and said that she had confidence now that together they could defeat the Lannisters. The young stag lord replied that he had been able to rouse some loyal Stormlands Houses to his cause, but some still supported Joffrey Baratheon, while others remained neutral. The Stormlands could still be considered a disputed kingdom, and probably would not unite around a leader until Prince Aegon took the Throne, or even worse, the Lannisters prevailed.

As they chatted over wine, Arya partaking of the watered variety due to her youth, two guards stomped into the pavilion with a willowy youth between them. Arya was startled – the young man had shoulder-length curly brown hair and golden eyes, and was more beautiful than any maiden she had ever seen, including her own sister, Sansa. He was a still a teenager, appearing to have seen only sixteen namedays, but looked every part the warrior in his gorgeous plate armor covered with enameled red roses.

“You asked us to bring you the Knight of the Flowers, Ser Loras Tyrell, and here he is,” one of the guards announced, “General Obara has approved of his transfer.”

“Quite right,” Lord Renly replied, “and I thank you. I will take custody of and responsibility for the prisoner, and will ransom his possessions, also. Ser Loras has sworn on the honor of his House not to take up arms against Prince Targaryen’s forces anymore, and should no longer be considered an adversary.”

After the guards departed, Lord Renly welcomed Ser Loras and stated, “Dear friend, I am relieved that you were not killed nor injured in the battle, and I am glad that we do not have to face each other as enemies.”

Ser Loras replied with an intense gaze, “I am also pleased that you survived the battle. I was most worried about what could have happened.”

As Arya watched them, she thought, _If there were no witnesses, they would fall into each other’s arms and kiss desperately! I wonder if we should leave?_

Lady Brienne also observed the exchange of heated glances between Ser Loras and Lord Renly, and Lady Nym could not avoid noticing the expression of intense disappointment that formed on the lovesick maiden’s face. The female knight stood up abruptly and muttered, “Excuse me, my lords, I have to go polish my armor,” and rushed out of the pavilion, biting her lower lip, and blinking her watering eyes.

Lady Nym signaled to Arya, and the two girls quickly followed after Lady Brienne. Loras and Renly did not even notice their departure.

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Lady Brienne had a long stride and was walking rapidly, but the Sand Snake moved quickly to catch up with her. Arya lagged behind, realizing that she was not needed. Nym gently touched Brienne on the forearm and she turned to look at the friendly Dornish girl. “It is obvious what was going on in there, Lady Brienne, and I am sorry that you had to suffer so,” Nym said with a sympathetic voice, “but we must face the truth, my lady of Tarth, he just isn't that into you.”

The tall knight looked like she was about to start bawling uncontrollably. Nym continued, trying to soothe the heartbroken maiden. “Come now, my dear, no man is worth those tears.” Nym started to stroke her short blonde hair, and wrapped her other arm around Brienne’s waist, “By the way, has anyone told you that you have the most beautiful blue eyes? Come to my tent now, and let me offer you a cup of wine and a shoulder to cry on. You need a woman to sympathize and console you."

“All right,” Brienne replied in a soft and vulnerable voice, allowing Nym to guide her to the pavilion she shared with her two apprentices and hoped that Arya had the sense to find Sarra and to give them some privacy. _At least until the midday meal!_ Nym smiled to herself.

When they arrived at the tent, Nym gave Brienne a handkerchief, and told her, “This is not a lady’s solar and I have no settees, so please seat yourself on the bed while I pour us some wine.”

Brienne plopped down on the nearest bed, not noticing that the sheets were disheveled, damp, and soiled from the previous night’s activity. She wiped her eyes and sniffled, “I have devoted my life to protecting him from harm, and he doesn’t even notice that I am alive, let alone a woman!”

Handing her a cup of Arbor Gold, Nym replied, “It is no wonder that he does not see that you are a woman. Look at the armor that encases your body! Let me help you take it off and you will be more comfortable.” And the Sand Snake expertly began loosening and removing the metal plates that covered Brienne’s body.

Brienne made no protest, but continued pouring out her heart. “How can he not see that I worship him, and would do anything for him?!”

Now Nym had taken the cup from her hand temporarily and was pulling Brienne’s coarse shift over her head. “Unfortunately, Lord Renly only has eyes for the handsome Ser Loras, and your devotion is wasted on him. Here, put on this silk robe, you will find it far more comfortable that that rough garment you wore under your armor. My, you _are_ tense. Let me give your shoulders a massage. You need to relax.”

Taking a small sip of wine, Brienne sighed and lowered her head as the Sand Snake’s strong fingers probed. “My,” she volunteered with some obvious pleasure, “that feels wonderful! No one has ever touched me like that. Even my mother and father rarely held me.” Brienne let out a soft moan as Nym continued to gently work on her tight muscles.

Silently, Nym massaged Brienne’s shoulders and back for a while, and then purred, while warily nuzzling the lady knight’s neck, “Ah, you are finally relaxing under my fingers. How does this feel?” And she moved her hands around Brienne’s torso and cupped her tiny breasts, thinking, _Gods, I was larger than her when I had only ten and two namedays! Oh well, at least size does not affect sensation._ The beautiful Sand Snake had some pity for Brienne, who, not only had the breasts of a skinny boy, was freckled of face and had large, crocked teeth. Brienne might not have been good looking, but she was loyal and honest, and did not deserve the abuse Westerosi men heaped on her. Nym intended for Brienne to have some happiness, and began to massage the girl’s teats.

“Oooh, that feels nice,” Brienne moaned, leaning back into the clever Dornish girl’s chest, her eyes closing, “Lady Nym, you have been so good to me.”

Nym crooned, “You are a wonderful woman, Lady Brienne, and deserve much affection, no matter what those stupid men have told you. Here, would you like to touch me?” Nym shifted around to face Brienne, letting her robes slip down and pool around her waist, exposing her perfect breasts to Brienne’s vision.

“You have such beautiful breasts,” Brienne murmured as she fondled them, obviously unsure of what she was doing, having never done so before, “I wish mine were more like yours,” she added wistfully.

“Let me tell you a secret,” Nym replied, “Size has nothing to do with sensitivity, and my sister Obara says that the pert breasts she carries now will be dragging on her belly when she is an old lady. Now tell me, how does this feel?” and she lowered her head and sucked one of Brienne’s teats into her mouth, swirling her skillful tongue around it.

“Ooooooh!” Brienne moaned and fell heavily back on the bed. She had never experienced such a sensation. Once or twice her own hand had accidentally elicited such a response, but she never pursued it. Nym continued to lavish attention to Brienne’s torso with her hands and mouth, and Brienne kept her eyes squeezed shut and just let the pleasure wash over her.

Now, Nym surprised her again. “Brienne, I expect that by now you are experiencing some feeling _here_ , too. Am I correct?” as she slipped her hand under Brienne’s smallclothes, palming her mound and letting her fingers slide inside her slit, which she noticed was quite damp.

“Oooooh!” Brienne exclaimed again, squeezing her legs together at the touch of a hand at her private place. Her brain was becoming overwhelmed with delight. She had never felt so good in her life!

Nym’s fingers slowly penetrated her passage, and Brienne’s legs involuntarily fell apart, giving Nym more access. Brienne moaned loudly as Nym stroked her folds with two fingers and whispered, “This is the attention that Renly should give you, but I am just as happy to do it myself, sweetling.”

Brienne found her voice and gasped, “Lady Nym, I did not know such pleasure was possible!”

“Aye, it is possible, Brienne, and will only get better!” Nym replied while loosening the laces of Brienne’s smallclothes and sliding them completely off. Then she started vigorously kissing and squeezing Brienne’s breasts and teats with her mouth and one hand, and pumping her fingers rapidly in and out of the folds of her sex, while circling the sensitive nub with her thumb. Brienne was moaning and bouncing on the bed, thrusting her center against Nym’s hand until finally she squealed with glee and stilled her pulsating torso, stretching her long legs and toes out at far as they could reach. She released the most satisfied sigh that Nym had ever heard, and opened her eyes, blinking at the Sand Snake as her breathing returned to normal. Nym purred, “Did you enjoy your first orgasm, my lady?” and moved her mouth from Brienne’s breast to her mouth, kissing her lightly and circling Brienne’s lips with her tongue, gently preparing the innocent girl for her first deep kiss.

Brienne was gushing, and began chattering, “Oh, Nymeria! Can I call you Nymeria? That was wonderful! I had no idea that my body could experience such bliss! I am indebted to you!” and she timidly returned Nym’s kiss, copying her oral explorations until soon they were tangling tongues and exchanging saliva. Soon Brienne was moaning again and pressing her body against Nym’s, obviously ready for more stimulation.

Nym was delivering sweet kisses and gently sliding her hands all over Brienne’s body, once again giving special attention to her breasts and sex, aware that the girl’s breathing was becoming heavier and her torso was vibrating in her arms. Nym thought, _Gods, I love to initiate virgins! There is nothing sweeter!_ She recalled how wonderful it had been to introduce Sarra and Arya and several others to the delightful world of erotic pleasure, and was ready to proceed with Brienne now.

“Lady Brienne, I know that you have enjoyed your experience so far, but I am excited to tell you that I have saved the best for last. This is called the Lord’s Kiss.” With that, she kissed her way down Brienne’s body, placing soft kisses on both teats, her ribs, her belly, her hips, and her mound. Then she moved her head between Brienne’s thighs, and her legs automatically spread wider to give Nym’s mouth better access to her folds, which the Dornish girl now started kissing and sucking, finally sliding her tongue into Brienne’s passage, moving it all around while bringing one hand down to caress her nub again.

Brienne groaned and clutched Nym’s head, digging her hands into the girl’s hair, and holding her firmly in place as she pleasured Brienne’s center. Brienne started thrusting her crotch into Nym’s face as though she needed even closer contact, and was startled to hear the sound of wet flesh slapping. She realized that her center was sopping wet and soaking Nym’s face. Once again she began to sense that intense feeling that Nym had called an orgasm taking over her body, and after what felt like a wave of seawater passing over her, she became totally relaxed. “Oh my, Nymeria, I don’t think I ever want to leave your bed.”

She realized that Nym was staring at her with the most mischievous expression, and the Sand Snake languidly replied, “Have no concern about leaving my bed, because now _you_ are going to give _me_ the Lord’s Kiss!” Nym stood up and slowly untied the laces of her lacy smallclothes, allowing the delicate material to drift down her shapely legs, revealing the dense patch of soft black curls covering her mound. The Sand Snake slowly moved towards Brienne’s face, as the novice lover looked on in wonderment.

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Later, Arya and Sarra came to the pavilion to see if Lady Nym and Brienne wanted to go to the midday meal. They stuck their heads into the tent, and saw Brienne with her head between Nym’s thighs and the Sand Snake moaning and shaking. The younger girls quietly backed away arm in arm, giggling and sharing the private jape. Arya had been holding Sarra’s arm since they met after breakfast, needing to have physical contact with the friend she had almost lost. During their tryst the previous night, while lying in each other’s arms and pausing to recover strength for their prolonged ‘consolation’ process, Sarra had described her experience during the battle. “I had to leap from my steed for safety because she reared up when threatened by a foot soldier with a pike. I soon found myself surrounded by at least four swordsmen, and all I had was my shortsword and my shield. I had no opportunity to draw my throwing knives. I kept them at bay, only acquiring flesh wounds at first, but I realized I would soon be at their mercy. I became frightened when they described how they would rape me before killing me. Lady Nym arrived just as I was beginning to panic, and she severed a few necks before they could respond to her presence, and the two of us were able to kill the rest together. For a while I thought I would surely die.”

Arya gently squeezed the girl in her arms and said, “Sarra, when I saw you bleeding in Lady Nym’s arms, I feared you had been mortally wounded. You are like a sister to me, and I do not want to lose you.”

The young Sand Snake, whose ebullient personality rarely allowed her to remain despondent for very long, grinned at Arya, and responded, “I think that we are _more_ than sisters, sweetling, and I _love_ the difference,” sucking on one of the wolf girl’s teats and sliding her hand over her mound. Arya closed her eyes and moaned, allowing her body to be taken over by pleasure once more.

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As Arya and Sarra were leaving the dining pavilion following the midday meal, they were approached by a squire acting as a camp messenger, relating that General Obara had called her captains to council, and requested that they inform their lady that her presence was requested. They returned to their tent to find Lady Nym washing and dressing, and Brienne snoring softly under the covers, with a contented smile on her face. Sarra grinned, “I suppose that at some point we should congratulate her and welcome her to the club?”

“Just do not embarrass her. Lady Brienne is new to lovemaking, and would be mortified by any coarse japes.”

“We will be nice to her,” Sarra responded in a voice that implied that she could not be trusted. Then she related General Obara’s request, and all three girls joined the council.

General Obara addressed her captains. “There is news from King’s Landing. Scouts have been observing the capital at all times. I have been expecting reports of joyous bells from the Great Sept announcing the wedding of King Joffrey and Margaery Tyrell, and instead, yesterday before the battle, I was informed that only mournful bells were heard. It seems that King Joffrey choked to death on his wine at the feast, and his lady mother insists that he was poisoned.”

Instantly there was a murmur of exclamations of surprise and wonder. Obara raised her hand for silence and continued.

“In the pandemonium that followed his dramatic death, the Tyrell family, fearing that they would be the next target of the assassins, fled King’s Landing with as many as their retainers as they could.” The senior Sand Snake’s face bore a predatory smile, “Presently, the Tyrells are the ‘honored guests’ of Lord Connington and Golden Company, who had recently arrived and set up an encampment outside the city walls.”

There was more discussion, and Obara waited before she finished her report. “With the Tyrell army having surrendered to Dorne and Lord Renly Baratheon, Lord Stannis Baratheon blockading Blackwater Bay, and Lord Tyrell and his immediate family in the hands of the Targaryen force, the Lannisters are in dire straits, and will be forced to endure a siege with limited resources. They will fear enemies without and within their walls, and Lord Tywin Lannisters is probably already feeling a sense of defeat. We will shortly join Golden Company and take part in the siege. I will inform you if any more news is received, but for now prepare your troops to march north in a few days.” She nodded to dismiss her captains, and turned to Lady Nym, “Sister dear, please remain for a while, as I have news of our sister Tyene.”

When the leaders had departed, Obara began, “I only told them part of the story. Tyene sent a secret message that explained what really happened. As you know, Mace Tyrell is a dithering idiot, and his mother, Lady Olenna, known as the Queen of Thorns, is the actual ruler of the family. Lady Olenna had become increasingly uncomfortable as she witnessed Joffrey’s cruel and violent nature, which his own mother, the Queen ignored. After he had hurt Lady Margaery several times, supposedly accidentally, Lady Olenna decided that she would not leave her beloved granddaughter in the hands of such a monster."

"Tyene had also observed what was happening, and when she felt confident in her plan, she approached the Lady and had a probing conversation with her. Tyene also learned that Lady Olenna, through her own informants, had learned that the forces of her House were deadlocked in a battle with the army of Dorne, and might not be able to reinforce the Lannister army, much of which had been captured by Prince Aegon. She began to believe that the Lannisters would fail in their quest to rule Westeros, and she was looking for a way out."

"Once Tyene heard Lady Olenna’s doubts, she implied that she had a solution, and the clever older woman professed interest. Tyene told her that her specialty was poison, and with Lady Olenna’s help, they could secretly kill the evil young king, and escape during the turmoil that was sure to follow. They came up with the plan to poison King Joffrey’s wine following the wedding, and prepared for the event. Lady Olenna did not trust her son, and did not include Mace in the plot. However, she prepared the small household guard and retainers for a rapid departure. Everything went as planned, and Tyene escaped with the Tyrells, affording them safe passage into the Targaryen camp, where they now reside.”

Obara finished, “We will meet up with Golden Company soon enough, and reunite with our sweet sister again.”

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Arya met up with Ned Dayne at dinnertime, and they ate with Lady Nym and Sarra. He kept his eyes on his plate and said very little, but when he happened to look up, he saw that the Dornish women were smirking. After the meal, Arya left the ladies and walked off with Ned, taking hold of his hand in the dark and entwining their fingers. Ned stopped and turned to embrace her, and she moved in close and returned the hug.

Ned had returned her to her pavilion the previous night, and they had walked with their arms around each other the whole way, not wanting to lose the physical contact. Now Arya murmured, “I was loath to leave you last night.”

“When I returned to my bed, I had to take myself in my hand twice before I was exhausted enough to fall asleep and stop thinking about you,” Ned replied.

Arya reached up and put her lips to his, and Ned returned the kiss passionately, then whispered into her ear. “I want you so badly, yet I know that we should not make love. I cannot get you out of my head.”

“Let us go back to your pavilion. To do otherwise will only make matters worse,” Arya suggested, squeezing his hand.

Ned dismissed his servant again, and out of the corner of his eye detected a small smile forming on the man’s lips. Ned realized that when they arrived at the siege, it would not take long before Prince Aegon’s retainers became aware that the ‘wolf princess’ had been spending the night in his pavilion. He feared the gossip will cause problems.

The couple kissed again, deeply now, stroking each other’s back. Breaking the kiss, Ned immediately started to unwind her braids, and as he combed out her long locks with his fingers, Arya realized that her center was becoming damp. She thought, _I must have Aegon take up this practice._

He boldly slid her robes off her body and cupped her bosom with both hands. “You are so beautiful. I thought about your breasts all day,” Ned said, and started to kiss her breasts enthusiastically, sucking loudly and making them extremely wet.

Arya pushed his robes off, and as they separated to let them fall, she looked him in the eye as she unlaced her smallclothes and stepped out of them, saying, “I want you should see me,” standing before him naked as the day she was born.

Ned drank in the spectacular sight. The wolf girl had a shapely figure, not voluptuous, but perfectly proportioned, with nice hips set off by a narrow waist which widened up her torso to her small, but perfectly round breasts set off with pointed raspberry teats. He was mesmerized and reached out to fondle her breasts again.

She muttered, “I want to see you too,” as she unlaced his smallclothes and pushed them down his legs. As his aroused cock sprang out between them, she immediately seized it and started to stroke and squeeze it, thinking, _He looks so much like Aegon, even their cocks are similar!_

The young lord moaned and leaned in to continue sucking on her breasts, biting her teats as they fell to the bed. Ned thought as she stroked his cock, _I am not going to last! I am going to spill my seed in her hand like a green boy!_

Now she steered his hand to her mound, and he marveled at the soft curls covering it, and jerked in surprise as she guided his fingers into the damp folds of her sex. Arya moved his fingers in and out, moaning the whole time, and he felt his cock stiffen and he spilled his seed at the sound. She had moved his thumb to circle over what felt like a button near her slit, and she began to move his fingers more quickly inside herself, finally sighing loudly and falling back with a such a satisfied expression on her face that he moved closer to kiss her passionately.

Arya returned the deep kiss, pressing her body against his, and he realized they were naked and lying chest to breast, cock to slit. Ned immediately became hard again and glided his cock back and forth against her center, fighting the temptation to thrust it inside her and take her violently until she screamed his name. He was losing all sense of reason and suspected that the writhing girl beneath him was doing the same as she moaned and slid her sopping wet folds against him. Suddenly she stopped and drew back panting. “Ned, do you know the Lord’s Kiss?”

Ned stopped also, and looked at her bleary-eyed, “The Lord’s Kiss? I know not of which you speak.”

Shyly now, she responded, “I should like you to kiss my other lips, here between my legs,” guiding his hand to her damp slit again. “I will show you what to do,” she continued, as she slid her arse to the edge of the bed and opened her legs, urging him to get up and place his head between her thighs.

He got out of bed and then dropped to his knees, and was rewarded with the most beautiful sight: her pink center was like an open flower, inviting his mouth to kiss her. He placed his lips on her sex, tasting salty wetness, and started to suck, as he had done to her teats. Arya gripped his hair and whined, “Ned, use your tongue! Oh, I want you so badly!”

Understanding her need, Ned slipped his tongue into her cunny, delving in and out, all around the folds and then deeply as far as his tongue would go into her passage. His hand found the button below her mound and he started stroking that too. Arya was vibrating and shaking against him, her hands pulling his head as close as possible to her slit, moaning over and over, “Oh, Ned! Oh, Ned!” For an instance, again, she had that image of her mother moaning those same words as her father worked over her, and she banished that image to the farthest place in her mind.

Ned continued to kiss her center and his face became wetter and wetter, and suddenly Arya exclaimed, “Aaaah!” and released her grip on his head, stretching her legs out straight, and laying her head back, sighing and wearing that same satisfied expression he had seen before.

The boy got up and leaned over her, kissed her gently and said lovingly, “I would be the happiest boy in Westeros if I could but see your face like that every day of my life.”

Arya blushed intensely at his romantic words, knowing that it could not be and not wanting to address his statement at all for fear of ruining the mood. Instead, she said, “Come here, you have given me much pleasure, and deserve the same treatment. Lie down on the bed and I will give you the _Lady’s_ Kiss.”

He did as ordered, lying on his back in the middle of the bed, and Arya gazed at his stiff cock standing upright, like a pine tree reaching for the sky. She seized the base and leaned over him, and her long hair brushed over his member. He groaned at the sensation, and Arya grinned and said, “Oh! You liked that, didn’t you? Well, how about this?!” and she wrapped his cock with her hair and started stroking it. Ned started moaning and thrusting gently into her hand. She smiled and said, “That’s enough of that,” and removing her hair-covered hand, she took the tip of his cock into her mouth, and now he felt her long locks brushing against his hips and thighs as she moved her head, drawing his whole cock into her mouth. All these sensations made him even more aroused. As Arya gave him the Lady’s Kiss, she felt his hands stroking the curves of her arse and she started to become aroused also. She felt his fingers wander to her slit, and she moaned, ‘Uuumm,” through her full mouth as she spread her legs a bit more to give him better access. Suddenly she felt gentle hands on her hips lifting and relocating her torso so that she was lying on top of his body, and she moaned, “UUUUMMM!” as she felt his face press against her center again and his tongue enter her passage, gifting her with _another_ Lord’s Kiss!

As she continued with her ministrations, and he thrust his groin in her face, Arya squeezed his head with her thighs and bobbed up and down as he lavished attention on her sex. Amid the sounds of wet flesh slapping, muffled moans were heard, and both of them started to move faster and faster until they came loudly and separated, panting heavily. Ned turned around and lay next to her, bringing his shining and wet face to hers, and gave her a kiss on the lips, muttering, “That was incredible!”

Arya smiled sweetly, “Aye, I am exhausted and completely satisfied,” and wrapped her arms around him. A ghost of a sad smile passed rapidly over his face, and she said, “What was that for?”

Ned responded wistfully, “I could not help but think that in a few days we will set out for King’s Landing, and our pleasure must most definitely end. I do not know how I can bear not embracing you and kissing you anymore.”

The she-wolf tried to lighten his mood. While stroking the fine hairs on his chest, she murmured, “Mayhaps you can call on Aegon and me, and stay with us for a while. I will prevail upon him to provide you with a chamber, and I will visit you when he falls asleep. Would you like that?”

The young lord actually laughed, “Dearest Arya, that is not a very good plan. It would only lead to trouble. Let us not dwell on the future.”

“I agree, we must be happy with what we have right now. And right now I am going to bathe myself out of your basin before dressing. I am soaking wet and sticky with both our juices, and probably smell of sex,” she replied as she got out of the bed and started gathering her clothing.”

Ned followed her out of bed and said, “Well, I think that you smell delicious, and would like that odor as a perfume,” he said as he pressed against her still naked body for one last kiss, and she realized that he was aroused again and pressing against her groin.

“No more, Ned,” Arya shook her head sadly, and walked to the basin of water, “I must get back to Lady Nym and Sarra. I am exhausted, and we both need sleep.”

The boy let her go, but whispered, “I cannot get enough of you.”

Ned walked her back to her pavilion, and left after a brief peck on the lips. Lady Nym was awake when she entered, and noting her appearance, asked, “Wolfie, do you need moon tea?”

Arya shook her head, “No, although we were within one inch of fucking. We did find other ways to satisfy our desire without coupling.”

The Sand Snake actually looked relieved. “Good,” she replied, “It would be difficult to explain to Prince Aegon and Lord Jon how you lost your maidenhead, and I know they would blame me, too.”

“No, I wouldn’t let anyone blame you,” the wolf girl said, “I will take responsibility for my actions. I know what is expected of me.” She threw off her clothes and fell into a deep sleep until morning. Regardless of her words, she thought about her tryst with Ned all day, even while sparring with Sarra, and after dinner, took his hand again, and without a word, walked with him to his pavilion. As they approached, they saw Ned’s servant quietly slip away.

Once inside, they threw off their clothes at a record rate of speed, and were naked within seconds. Without any prelude, they immediately jumped into bed and initiated the ‘Couple’s Kiss’ as they had named it, face to groin, and were sucking and thrusting and loudly moaning as though the world was about to end. They both reached their orgasms quickly, familiar enough by now to know what their partner’s needs were. Falling apart, and with heavy breathing, they adjusted their positions to kiss face to face and to murmur how good they felt, while running their hands along each other’s body. After some fifteen minutes, they were relaxed again, and without even thinking, started the whole process all over again. It took longer to reach orgasm this time, but the experience was even more intense, and they fell apart sweating heavily and panting.

After a few minutes, they made eye contact, and Arya giggled, “That was excellent! I knew when we met that I was attracted to you and that we could have fun, but I never expected this!”

Ned was softly stroking her breasts, and he replied, “When I met you, all I thought was that you were the most beautiful girl I had ever seen and I would have been content to merely kiss you, and here you have allowed me to worship your entire irresistible body, _and_ given me such pleasure that I could ever imagine!” The boy sighed, “I wish I knew how to quit you.”

Practical Arya was reproachful, “We agreed not to mourn about the future, but to just enjoy the moment. I _am_ very fond of you, Ned, but I know when I see Aegon again, I will be even more absorbed with him than I have been with you. I am sorry.”

Young Lord Dayne sighed as though his end was near. “I do not know how I can live without you.”

The wolf girl was sympathetic. She grinned and said, “Should I send Sarra to your bed? A tumble with her would drive thoughts of me right out of your mind. Well, mayhaps two or three tumbles.”

Ned only looked sorrowful, “Please do not jape, Arya, I am being serious.”

“I am not japing. I am being serious, too. I am sure you will find someone to love. When Aegon becomes king, there will be lots of girls at King’s Landing, and we will find the right one for you. I promise.”

Now it was Ned that was grinning, “As you advised, let’s not think about the future, only the present!” and with that, he quickly spun the surprised and squealing girl around and thrust his face into her slit and began lapping at her center. She noticed that his cock was throbbing inches from her mouth, and the next ‘Couple’s Kiss’ commenced. They were totally spent after number three and stopped for the night at that point.

Lady Nym was still awake when she returned and seemed to be waiting for her. “Still no need for moon tea?” she asked. Arya shook her head, and as she dropped her clothes to the floor and pulled a nightgown over her head, described the activities in which they had participated.

The erotic expert nodded sagely, “That is a favored position for those who would seek to avoid a pregnancy and yet attain maximum satisfaction. I suggest that you practice it well so that you and the Prince can please each other without fear of penetration before you wed.”

As Arya slipped into bed, she felt Sarra stir behind her, and she joined the conversation. Sliding her arm around Arya’s waist and biting her earlobe, the Dornish girl purred, “I would be delighted to help you practice.”

Arya sighed, “That sounds tempting, Sarra, but not tonight. I am drained and need sleep.”

Nym woke the next morning to the sounds of grunts and moans, and observed that the covers on the adjoining bed were in motion. She walked over and yanked off the sheet, seeing two naked, entwined bodies. Nym slapped the nearest arse, not sure to whom it belonged, thinking, _mayhaps Sarra, she has a larger bottom,_ and announced, “I see that you are sharing an early breakfast, but you will get no nutrition that way! Come, let us go to the dining pavilion, and consume some real meat.” Two sheepish faces looked up at her, and they separated to perform their ablutions and get properly dressed before leaving.

At breakfast, Nym suggestively chewed on a sausage and eyed Arya, finally addressing her discipline, “You know, sweetling, I am beginning to believe that your insatiable craving for erotic enlightenment is much stronger than either Sarra or I.”

Sarra leaned over and with a broad grin, whispered in the wolf girl’s ear, while squeezing her thigh under the table, “She means that you are hornier than either of us!”

Arya giggled and swatted Sarra’s hand away, and Nym continued, “I am afraid that your loving attention will weaken my dear cousin Aegon well before his time, and you are more likely to kill him than any enemy.”

The vivacious she-wolf laughed and responded, “Mayhaps that can be prevented by having Ned Dayne live with us, and I can share my attention between both boys, and no cocks would be in danger of being overused.”

Both warrior women chuckled at Arya’s comment, and the bold girl closed her eyes in reflection and added, “Of course, the perfect situation would be to have Gendry present to add more variety.”

Sarra agreed enthusiastically, “That is a great idea! I still have dreams that he is ‘forging’ me over the anvil in his smithy!”

Lady Nym smiled lovingly at both girls and said, “I hope no one ever accuses me of creating a pair of succubae, dangerous to all living men.”

The older apprentice retorted, “Not to worry, any man that we kill with our love will die with a smile on his face and no complaints.”

Later that day, Arya sparred with Ned after the midday meal, and as they walked to the training yard, she could not help but notice that almost everyone they passed turned their heads furtively to gaze at them and smile. She recognized the fact that many in camp had often seen them together, and the servants were probably talking about her frequent nighttime visits to his tent. Arya realized that the camp gossips were probably convinced that Ned was fucking her regularly, and that thought made her uneasy. She hoped that the false gossip would not cause her trouble later.

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A few days after the last council meeting, Obara’s forces were ready to march towards King’s Landing. The battle had provided them with much needed supplies for the coming siege, and had the added benefit of depriving the Lannisters of those same materials. Arrangements had been initiated for the ransom of Ser Garlan Tyrell and his bannermen, and the army of the Reach had promised not to challenge the Targaryen host, removing them as enemies of the Targaryen Prince. Since their ruling family were ‘guests’ of the prince’s army, they had little choice. General Obara announced that the army would set forth on the morrow, and everyone in camp prepared for departure.

Nym squeezed Arya’s hand and said excitedly, “You will soon see Prince Aegon again, and you can show him _all_ that you have learned! For my part, I will be curious to see if Lord Jon still desires me. That will be most interesting.”

Arya replied, also with much excitement in her voice, “Aye! There is so much I wish to tell and show Aegon. Even though I have met so many nice boys, he is the one that I feel the closest to and I cannot wait to be in his company again!” and she set off to start packing her possessions for the trip to King’s Landing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to thank ‘Dericof Diname’ for the brilliant suggestion to add Brienne of Tarth to the fic. Soon after I received the comment, I immediately had a plot line in my mind, and started writing. I hope you like it!
> 
> Aegon and Arya will meet again in the next chapter, and I have been impatient for the exciting reunion.


	53. Let the Siege Begin

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! Here is a rapid update. However, I am sorry. I promised that this would be the reunion, but that matter will have to wait until the next chapter. Our young lovers will have some problems to hash out, and the ugliness begins here. Their reunion is not meant to be all fluffy, as I originally planned, at least not initially.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 53 Let the Siege Begin

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Lord Jon Connington gazed around the captain’s dining pavilion, pondering how the dynamics had changed. A few days ago the atmosphere was hushed and lackluster, yet this evening the mood was light and the conversations were lively. Laughter was often heard. The change was due to the arrival of the Tyrell family and their retainers, and the news that the Tyrell army had been defeated.

The main dining table had routinely been populated by the serious leaders of Golden Company and the major bannermen of House Targaryen, and now they had been joined by several civilians, including a number of women, several of whom were beautiful and loquacious. The presence of women, especially good-looking, friendly, young women tended to remove any solemnity from a roomful of warriors. Lord Jon reflected how the same change had occurred at Harrenhal upon the arrival of Lady Nymeria Sand and her Dornish attendants, and Lord Stark and his party, which had included several sociable and animated young women. He had to admit that he himself was enjoying the change.

Seated at the main table now were Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden and High Marshall of the Reach, his mother, Olenna Tyrell, and his beautiful daughter, Margaery. Regardless of his titles, Mace possessed a weak and obsequious mind, and it was his mother, Lady Olenna, known as the Queen of Thorns, who was the real brains and ruler of House Tyrell. Lady Margaery Tyrell, had recently and briefly been Margaery Baratheon, but her husband, King Joffrey, had died in an untimely manner at their wedding feast, and the marriage was unconsummated, and thus annulled.

House Tyrell was in the awkward position of having lost control of their army in a battle against the combined forces of General Obara Sand of Dorne and Lord Renly Baratheon of the Stormlands, and of having Mace, Olenna, and Margaery forced to flee the Red Keep for their lives following Joffrey’s death. Even if they were not the target of the young king’s probable assassin, they would surely bear the wrath of Joffrey’s hotheaded and vengeful mother, Queen Cersei, who accused them of being implicated in his death. The Queen, though impetuous, was not wrong, as Lady Olenna had indeed plotted Joffrey’s demise with the dangerous Sand Snake, Tyene Sand.

The Tyrells was now the ‘honored guests’ of Prince Aegon Targaryen, and as high-ranking prisoners, were being treated with the respect due good friends. Their presence signified that the Lannisters had lost their most important ally, and were deprived of much-needed supplies and soldiers. That knowledge also was a cause for the levity in the dining tent.

The main focus of attention was the recently wed and widowed Lady Margaery Tyrell, a beautiful maiden of ten and six namedays. Many would argue that Lady Margaery was the loveliest young woman in Westeros, and surely that was true in the dining pavilion that evening. Lady Margaery had been accompanied by almost a dozen ladies-in-waiting and handmaidens, most of whom were her cousins and noble companions. These pretty young girls, all cheerful and dressed in stylish, brightly-colored gowns, were scattered among the tables of nobles, and contributed to the festive mood.

The men in the pavilion found it hard to tear their eyes from Lady Margaery, as she was also dressed in a well-fitted gown, and possessed a delightfully voluptuous figure with wide hips, a narrow waist, and an admirable bosom, which was not-so-modestly revealed by her low-cut bodice. Her face was round, with plump cheeks, wide red lips, large doe eyes, and was framed by a cascade of soft brown curls. Lord Jon thought that her face had an uncanny resemblance to the ‘wolf princess’. Those who professed that Lady Sansa Stark was the fairest maiden in Westeros, and many did, would have had to admit that, whereas Lady Sansa represented a form of sweet and innocent youthful beauty, Lady Margaery appeared to be much more womanly, and the movement of her hips, her sultry voice, and welcoming eyes all seemed to suggest that she was a maiden that would satisfy the desires of any red-blooded male.

Lady Olenna, that clever politician, had contrived to seat herself next to Lord Jon, and Lady Margaery next to Prince Aegon. The two youngsters were having an animated conversation when the Queen of Thorns leaned close to Lord Jon and said, “Don’t those two look so nice together, Lord Jon? They are both beautiful and would make a lovely couple. They appear to be getting along so well already! What say you, Lord Jon, should we encourage them to form a close friendship, which may become something more?”

There were many things that Lord Jon felt like saying, but he chose to only reply, “Apparently Lady Margaery is made of stern stuff, my lady, as she does not seem to be mourning in the slightest for her recently departed husband. What a strong young woman, that she can quickly bury her grief and move on to the next available prince!”

The dowager seemed to be taken aback, and gave Lord Jon a shrewd look, acknowledging that she realized that he was wise to her machinations, and not a dunderhead like her son. She replied candidly, “My lord, mayhaps she does not seem to lament the loss of her husband, and we can both agree that marrying her to that loathsome Lannister turned out to be a very bad idea, but you surely see that Margaery and Aegon would be an excellent pairing. They definitely look the part of a royal couple, and her figure promises successful childbearing. Do not be fooled by Margaery’s visage. She is not empty-headed, but has a clever and well-educated mind. She would be worthy consort for a king!”

Lord Jon also decided to be frank, “My lady, even though it has not been formally announced yet, I am _sure_ your sources have informed you that Prince Aegon has given his heart to a Northern lass, and has pledged his troth to Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell.”

Lady Olenna frowned at his words, and her indignant expression explained why she was called ‘The Queen of Thorns’. “You are correct,” she snapped, “I learned in the Red Keep that the Prince had befriended an uncouth and wild child from an uncivilized province, who wears the clothing of a boy and keeps a large wolf by her side. The Lannisters had even implied that she used _magic_ to ensnare Prince Aegon’s heart!”

“I assure you, my lady,” Lord Connington smiled, “that although the description is partially true, much of it is exaggeration, and I seriously doubt that any magic was involved in the affection that developed between the prince and the younger daughter of the noble Ned Stark. Her mother is a Tully of the Riverlands, and Lady Arya may be free-spirited, but she _not_ uncivilized.” Lord Jon was surprised to find himself defending the wolf girl so vociferously. _It is as I have feared when I first saw her with her father,_ he thought, _the little urchin unconsciously worms her way into everyone’s heart!_

The Lady of the Reach was still fuming, “I still do not see why Prince Aegon, who is of a similar age to my granddaughter, would prefer a _dirty child_ to Lady Margaery, a woman grown and prepared to bear him an heir immediately. I also understand that she has gone off to Dorne with that bastard harlot Nymeria Sand as her mentor, and if and when she does return, she will no doubt have the morals and experience of a _prostitute!_ ”

“More exaggeration, Lady Olenna,” Lord Jon laughed, “Lady Arya’s mentor is not the corrupt courtesan you imagine. It is true that Dornish women are raised with more independence and practical education than those in the rest of Westeros, but I assure you that Lady Nymeria has not been remiss in attending to the girl’s formal education. She has written to me several times, and Lady Arya excels at history, sums, and science. Oh, and I have been informed that Arya has flowered and is blossoming into a lovely young woman, who,” and he could not help but smirk, “could, by all accounts, outshine your illustrious granddaughter.”

“Humph!” was all the Queen of Thorns would say, but continued to glare at Lord Connington as though her gaze could wilt him like a flower. But the old campaigner was strong, and was not a wimp like her son, Mace, and he did not flinch. Finally she addressed him with a feral grin, “Well, my lord, why don’t we leave the two young people to their own devices, and we shall see if Margaery can replace this absent urchin in Prince Aegon’s heart and mind. I still contend that she is a perfect match for him, and mayhaps she will prove me right.” She knew that Margaery was clever and wily, and knew all the tricks to capturing a young man’s attention.

But Lord Jon had the last word. “One more thing, my lady,” he said in a japing voice, “I expect that Lady Margaery is skilled with her tongue, but does she have any experience with real blades? You see, Lady Arya has also become quite capable with a short sword and a dagger, and has a short temper. I fear that if she returns and sees Margaery wooing the Prince, blood may be shed.”

Lady Olenna glared at her host one last time, and returned her attention to the plate in front of her.

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As Lady Olenna had surmised, Lady Margaery had every intention of capturing Prince Aegon’s affection. Both women had realized early in their sojourn in the Targaryen camp how advantageous for the entire family it would be for Margaery to attach herself to the prince. Lady Margaery initiated conversations as often as possible during chance encounters at first, and had his extended attention during that first dinner, when she asked him about his time in hiding.

Actually, Aegon had fond memories of growing up in Essos. He was too young to worry about the price on his head, and instead was happy in his interaction with his mentors, Lord Jon, Septa Lemore, Half-Maester Haldon, and Ser Rolly. Each served a role in preparing him to return to Westeros to conquer his enemies and seek revenge for his murdered family, and as he grew up he was confident that becoming the ruler of the land was in his future.

The prince spoke for a long time about his pleasant experiences in Essos, and Margaery asked leading questions to keep him talking and content with the sound of his own voice, occasionally commenting on any event that she could relate to her life. Prince Aegon quite enjoyed his conversation with the agreeable and intelligent young woman, and felt strangely comfortable in the presence of her large, expressive eyes and soft brown hair. He suppressed the urge to stroke her long chestnut locks.

For her part, Lady Margaery was impressed with the young prince. As he spoke, she realized that he was not just a pretty face with an empty head, but an intelligent and scholarly boy, with a sensitive and compassionate nature, a lover of the fine arts, and a determination to be a worthy ruler. The ambitious young lady was practical, and briefly worried if he was _too nice_ , and if that quality would prevent him from leading an army. But she recalled that his father, Prince Rhaegar, was as praised for his love of poetry and music as he was renowned for his power of command on the battlefield.

She realized that he was the opposite of handsome King Joffrey, who was self-centered, conceited, jealous, mean, vicious, cruel, and greedy – all the bad Lannister traits, and if the rumors were true, he was _pure_ Lannister. It did not help that his lady mother encouraged his evil behavior, and possessed many of those traits, herself. Lady Margaery was relieved to be far removed from that awful family and in the presence of a noble youth who was almost too good to be real. She made up her mind to use all her considerable charms to make him fall in love with her, or failing that, convince him that marrying her was the best course of action. With the wealth of the Reach behind her, she was a _very_ confident young woman.

As the siege of King’s Land began, there was little to do besides staying out of the range of the Lannister bowmen and catapults on the parapets of the walls, and blocking the access roads. Prince Aegon had much free time, and Lady Margaery, having determined their common interests, sought out his company. His favorite pleasure was to find a quiet spot in the woods and practice his harp. Aegon played old favorites and also wrote his own songs. Margaery had a voice as melodious as a little bird (of course), and she often made requests, singing along harmoniously and gazing at him with adoring eyes, placing her hand on his forearm. She would smile sweetly when they finished a number and comment on how well he had played and that they made beautiful music together. Aegon began to enjoy their duets.

Like the prince, Lady Margaery was also a lover of romantic literature, and had studied the classic tale of Florian and his Jonquil extensively, among others. Aegon found that he could spend hours reviewing these stories with Margaery, covering every detail, interpretation, and analysis. One afternoon, while discussing the passionate love affair shared by Queen Naerys and Prince Aemon the Dragonknight, both of whom were fabled ancestors of Prince Aegon, Margaery moved in closely, and without thinking, he began to stroke her long and lovely brown hair. She murmured, with wide doe eyes, “You may kiss me if you wish.”

The lonely prince was sorely tempted to do so, as she was close enough for him to feel her soft breath on his face, and her ruby lips were _so_ inviting. He hesitated, but she did not, moving swiftly to press her mouth against his, and before Aegon knew what was happening, they were embracing tightly and tangling tongues, moaning softly with desire. Aegon struggled to remain in control of his senses, and soon broke the kiss, but Margaery would not let him draw back, and in a moment their embrace became tighter, their kisses more ardent, and the girl began to press her curvaceous bosom against his chest.

Aegon finally broke free, panting heavily, as his guilty conscience began to shout for attention. While still in her embrace, he created some distance between their torsos, and in doing so, happened to glance down at the upper curve of her shapely breasts, always partially exposed by the low-cut gowns she favored. Once again he hesitated but she did not, seizing his hand and gently placing it on her exposed skin. Aegon marveled at how soft she felt, and the sensation reminded him of another feminine form he longed to fondle. “Ah, I see you like that,” Margaery ventured, “would you like to see my breasts, mayhaps hold them?” and began to unlace her bodice, which was bound so tight that merely opening the first bow revealed a glimpse of deep and inviting cleavage.

The overstimulated prince was torn between impatiently grasping the bodice and ripping it open to suck on the delicious teats he was sure were hidden beneath it, and halting the action before it became too late to withdraw. His conscience reminded him that there was another set of mysterious breasts that he was patiently waiting to worship, and he finally regained control, gasping, “Lady Margaery! We must stop! I have given my heart to another and our behavior is becoming unseemly! I enjoy your company but it would be wrong to continue this intimacy!” With wide eyes and a heaving bosom, he broke their embrace, and stood back, wildly combing his fingers through his hair in distress.

Now, all of a sudden, Lady Margaery’s gaze hardened and she coldly stated, “If you tell me that you are rejecting my love because of Arya Stark, I must inform you that you have misplaced your affection!”

Aegon stared at her. “What do you mean?!”

“My dear brother, Loras, is presently in the camp of the Dornish army and has frequently seen your beloved,” she seemed to spit out the word ‘beloved’. “He writes to me often and has mentioned that Lady Arya has been spending much of her time in the company of Lord Ned Dayne of Starfall, and the sounds emanating from his tent at night would convince any witness that some serious fucking, pardon my coarse language, is going on inside!”

Aegon shouted, “I don’t believe you! Arya would not do that!”

“Face the truth, my prince,” Margaery argued, “you have been parted from her for a long time, and like her promiscuous Dornish companions, she has been sampling all the available male members she meets. ‘Lady’ Arya (and ‘lady’ was pronounced contemptuously) has moved on, and no longer loves you!”

The obviously distraught prince shook his head in disbelief, “That cannot be true! Arya has always been honest with me, and would have told me if she no longer loved me.”

“Believe what you want, if you insist on being so gullible,” Margaery actually seemed to enjoy watching Aegon squirm with discomfort, “but they have even been seen embracing in public, and your intended’s hair is frequently disheveled and her lips puffy. The Dornish harlots are so wanton that they sit at breakfast sucking on sausages as if they were cocks!”

Aegon’s mind was reeling from Margaery’s scornful words, and shook his head again, “No, I refuse to believe that Arya is faithless. I must go and think on what you have said. There must be another explanation if what Ser Loras has told you is true.” He stumbled away to his pavilion, almost dragging his precious harp on the ground.

Lady Margaery tried to placate him. “I am sorry to have distressed you, my prince, but I felt that you deserved to know the truth. Please come to me when you accept this tragedy, and I will do my best to comfort you and help you deal with your loss.”

He looked back briefly and nodded silently, tears streaming down his cheeks.

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Lord Jon noticed that Prince Aegon had not come to dinner that evening. The lad was not a glutton, but loved his food, and rarely missed a meal. He also noticed that Lady Olenna and Lady Margaery were sitting off by themselves, immersed in an intense conversation. Lady Ashara came up to him and said with a troubled expression, “Something is amiss, but I am not sure what is going on.” Jon nodded and decided to check the prince’s pavilion.

He was surprised to find the young man sitting in a chair, weeping into his hands. Alarmed, Jon asked anxiously, “Did someone die?!”

The prince shook his head, raised his reddened eyes to his mentor, and told him all that Lady Margaery had related to him, and desperately inquired, “Could any of this be true?”

Lord Jon was not sure how he should answer. As promised, Lady Nym had sent many ravens detailing Arya’s education, both with the maester and with weapons instructors, and the bold Dornish woman had also expressed no reservations about her apprentice’s experiences in the erotic arts. However, she assured Jon that Arya made every effort to preserve her maidenhead and not dishonor her family and the prince. He carefully addressed the sensitive boy, “I suspect that the inquisitive wolf girl has been kissing some boys, and mayhaps been somewhat intimate, but I doubt that she has been as wanton as Lady Margaery has implied. We will only know the truth when she joins us here and you can ask her in person about these rumors.”

Prince Aegon nodded sadly and picked up his harp.

The prince did not leave his tent the next day, but the day after that Lady Margaery found him at his favorite place in the woods, sitting on a stump and strumming a dirge on his harp and singing sadly. She approached him and wrapped her arms around him in an embrace and said, “I am sorry that Lord Jon could not offer proof that the accusations were false, and I am sad that you are suffering so.”

He laid his head on her breast, which was conveniently at the same level as his tear-streaked face, and sighed. Margaery murmured, “Let me console you.” She was prepared today, and with one pull of a ribbon, her magnificent breasts sprang free of her bodice, right into his face. The boy was amazed and had to touch them. The round globes felt surprisingly heavy and luxuriously soft in his hands, and appeared as impressive as those of his beautiful cousin, Lady Nymeria. He welcomed the large pink teats into his mouth, first one and then the other, and Margaery whispered, “Yes, they are yours to enjoy. I only want to help you forget your sorrow.” She pressed her bosom tightly to his face and buried her hands in his hair, kneading his scalp.

Aegon did as he was told, and worshipped her breasts, realizing that a tenting in his breeches had occurred in response to Margaery’s attention. She moaned softly as he sucked, and taking one of his hands, guided it underneath her gown and placed it over her damp smallclothes, panting, “Do you feel what you are doing to me? I am yours to command, your grace!”

Her bold action startled the prince, and he abruptly removed his hands and mouth from her inviting body, sputtering, “Lady Margaery, forgive me! I did not mean to take advantage of your friendship! We must not behave thusly!” and he hastily tried to secure her bodice, confining her wet breasts with their peaked teats under the cloth.

“Do not fret, my prince, you have not taken any liberties that I would have denied you, but I know you are upset and confused, and will not torture you any longer,” she demurely responded, while slowly relacing her bodice. The clever girl smirked to herself, _In a few days, he will be putty in my hands!_ She left him in the grove, making sure that her womanly hips swayed in the most inviting way as she walked away.

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Having concluded all their preparations, the Dornish army set out for King’s Landing. The Tyrell force had been disarmed, and the conscripts, mainly farmers, villagers, and craftsmen, had been allowed to divest themselves of all soldierly trappings, and return to their homes in the Reach, where they were an important part of the economy. The remaining captured soldiers dared not cause any problems, as the major members of their ruling House were the ‘honored guests’ of Prince Aegon.

The assemblage was able to move quickly since they now traveled on the roseroad, and not overland, and General Obara, studying her maps, concluded that the main body of the army, consisting of wagons, livestock, foot soldiers, and captives, would need a week to reach the capital, whereas the mounted warriors on their sand steeds, could be there in two days. The general announced that she was leaving one troop of cavalry to travel with the foot soldiers and wagons, in case of an unlikely attack from renegade Stormlanders, and the rest would immediately set out for King’s Landing and link up with Golden Company.

Lady Nym, Sarra, and Arya were very excited as they began the last leg of their journey, but Arya and Lord Dayne, riding within sight of each other and making eye contact, knew that this was their last opportunity for affection before joining the Prince’s host.

Since the three-orgasm night, they had kissed once or twice, but were too busy preparing for the trip to the capital to spend much time together, and that intense evening had worn them out and sated much of their mutual desire.

However, this night was to be their last chance to share intimacy, and both youths wanted to take advantage of the occasion. Arya felt guilty knowing that Ned was extremely fond of her, and she was about to callously throw him over for her Prince, but she knew that it would not be right to deprive him of one last night of passion. She also felt guilty knowing how much _she_ looked forward to a lustful night, too. Lady Nym had assured her that there was nothing wrong with her persistent quest for erotic satisfaction.

“Those frigid septas in most of Westeros have convinced the women there that it is sinful and wanton to enjoy sex,” she assured her apprentice, “but women are no different than men in that attribute, and amorous frustration does not aid the healthy mind. Men will seek to marginalize you politically based on your gender, but you are a Sand Snake now, and must be bold and refuse to be cowed even when they try to discredit you. It is difficult to be so forthright, but you are strong, and I expect you to confront the hypocrites. I am proud of you!” Lady Nym gazed at the she-wolf as she spoke, thinking, _she is so young to have such a challenging task, but if anyone can do it, Arya can!_ Nym reflected how her father Oberon, an older and experienced man, had succumbed to her will.

After the pavilions were constructed, and dinner was over, Arya waited until dark, and quietly crept to Ned’s tent, avoiding any prying eyes. He was waiting nervously, and embraced her as soon as she entered, murmuring into her ear, “This night would be impossible to bear if I did not see you one last time.” Arya leaned up to kiss him and they tangled tongues, and she became aware of his eagerness for he immediately started massaging her breasts and squeezing her teats as they kissed.

When they came up for air Ned took the initiative to loosen her robes and let them drop to the floor, attacking her breasts with his mouth, first saying, “I love your breasts, I fear that I think about them _all_ day,” and began to suck and bite, sending shivers through her body and a fluttering in her groin. As he favored her teats with quick, brief love bites, she felt her smallclothes becoming very damp, and she wanted his attention, drawing one of his hands to fondle her mound.

That was not enough for the hasty boy, and he quickly loosened the laces of her smallclothes and slid them down her legs, then urged her to sit on the edge of the bed. Ned kneeled on the floor between her open thighs and stared into her inviting and pink center. Then he picked up her discarded and wet smallclothes and held them to his nose, inhaling deeply. He captured Arya’s gaze and smiled, “I’m going to keep these to remind me of our time together.”

Arya grinned and replied, “Sarra won’t be happy. I felt girly today and borrowed them from her. Even though they fit Sarra perfectly and are large on me, I like the way they feel.”

Ned took a closer look and realized that they were dainty and delicate, of sheer linen with cute lacy edges around the leg openings and waist.

The wolf girl added, “They were made by Lady Nym’s skilled seamstress, Victoria.”

Lord Dayne grinned back, “I will value them even more so, and mayhaps I can somehow repay her.” Now he turned his attention to her inner folds, stroking them gently and moving his face closer to begin kissing, and his voice sounded muffled because he _was_ so close, as he told her with obvious reverence in his voice, “I love your sex. I love your smell. How can I go on without tasting you every day?”

Arya was becoming uncomfortable as he lamented the unavoidable end to their trysts, and she felt even guiltier for allowing their relationship to become so important to the romantic young man. However, that did not stop her from enjoying the exquisite sensation of his lips and tongue as they heightened her pleasure. Reflecting first on her mentor’s words, she closed her eyes, and let her mind wander, thinking about the next evening, when no doubt she would be among her old friends again. She laid her head back and allowed her center to pulsate, matching the rhythm of his nibbling lips on the border of her passage and his insistently prodding tongue exploring her inner folds, and sighing with contentment at their delightful intimacy, occasionally emitting a sweet moan with rounded lips, “Oh! Oh!” Every time the lad heard her moans, he would squeeze her teats gently but firmly, press his face even deeper into her slit, and increase the pressure on her sensitive button. As she was immersed in her faraway thoughts, Ned’s tongue probed the perfect place inside her folds, his thumb circled her nub at the right moment, and she came rapidly and explosively, exclaiming, “Oh, Aegon!”

Ned’s head jerked up to stare at her, his hair disheveled, his mouth dripping with her juices, his fingers still entwined in the soft curls of her mound, and he repeated with frustration in his voice, “OH, AEGON?!”

The she-wolf turned bright red, and she began to apologize profusely, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I don’t know why I said that!”

But Lord Dayne gave her a sad expression and said, “Well, I know why. I think we should stop now,” and he stood up, looking down at her morosely.

Arya was desperate to make things right again, and pleaded, “I really _am_ sorry! Shall I give you the Lady’s Kiss? Mayhaps that will make things better,” but when she reached into his smallclothes, his cock was limp and retracted.

Ned confirmed the disposition of his readiness by saying, “No thank you, I find that I am no longer in the mood. You should probably get dressed. Here are your robes.”

Anxiously, she asked, “Do you still want to keep my smallclothes?”

With a sigh and a look of despair, he picked them up again and took one last deep sniff and handed them to Arya, saying, “Nae, it would serve no purpose. Here, I don’t want Sarra to find them missing.”

After she silently dressed, Arya quietly stated, “You don’t have to walk me home. I am going to slip quietly through the shadows. It will be easy.”

He only replied, “All right,” and kissed her on the top of her head, stroking her hair just a little.

Before she turned to go, she gazed at him with regret and repeated one more time, “I really am sorry, Ned,” but he was not even looking at her.

When she returned to her pavilion, Sarra immediately knew something was wrong. “What happened?” she asked.

Arya blushed again and said with embarrassment, “As Ned was giving me the Lord’s Kiss, I shouted, ‘Oh, Aegon’ at a most inappropriate moment.”

Sarra tried to look concerned, but then her eyes sparkled and she clamped her hand over her mouth, but could not help but start laughing hysterically.

Lady Nym had been sleeping soundly, but now looked up and asked, “What is going on?”

Desperately trying to stifle her guffaws, Sarra choked out, “Arya called out Aegon’s name just as Ned made her come with his tongue,” and started laughing again.

The Sand Snake joined in laughing, and Arya looked annoyed, snapping, “It really isn’t _that_ funny!”

“Not to worry, sweetling,” Nym sniggered, “I have done that about a half dozen times myself.” She yawned and rolled over, “It won’t be the last time you do it, either.”

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The Dornish party approached King’s Landing late in the afternoon, and when they discerned the Targaryen banners waving high over pavilions, Lady Nym, Sarra, and Arya could not help but impatiently spur their horses, and gallop to the camp. They ordered their tent to be set up post-haste, so they could clean up and change clothing, and then seek out their friends. Arya was excited to see Aegon again, and at first thought to show him her new warrior clothes, but then decided to get pretty in silk robes. She asked Sarra for help, and the older girl laughed, saying, “You are acting like a simpering fool.”

Arya didn’t care, she rushed into the camp, looking for familiar faces, and saw Duck first. The large man smiled when he saw her, but then his expression became uneasy. He greeted her with a hug, and when Arya asked, “Where is the prince?” Duck answered vaguely, “Oh, he is around here somewhere. He is usually practicing his harp in the woods around this time of day.”

She walked in the direction that Duck had roughly indicated, and as she approached the trees, she saw two people walking her way. Her heart leaped when she recognized Prince Aegon, but she felt a chill in the pit of her stomach when she realized that there was a woman holding his arm and smiling prettily at his face, and he was smiling back at her.

Totally confused by the scene confronting her, Arya thought, _what in the seven hells is going on here?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, they finally reunite in the next chapter, but it won’t be pretty. There are some serious issues.
> 
> Alluding to certain thoughts of Jon Connington, GRRM at one point suggests that Margaery has a similar look to Lyanna Stark.


	54. Reunions

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 54 Reunions

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Previously:

Arya walked in the direction that Duck had roughly indicated, and as she approached the trees, she saw two people walking her way. Her heart leaped when she recognized Prince Aegon, but she felt a chill in the pit of her stomach when she realized that there was a woman holding his arm and smiling prettily at his face, and he was smiling back at her.

Totally confused by the scene confronting her, Arya thought, _What in the seven hells is going on here?!_

\------------------------------------------

As soon as Aegon recognized the girl approaching him, his eyes sparkled and a smile formed on his lips, but the welcoming expression disappeared as quickly as it had appeared, and his face acquired a stony gaze. Without looking, he brushed Margaery’s hand from his arm, but he made no move to embrace or kiss Arya. Instead he said stiffly, “Welcome back to Golden Company, Lady Arya, I am pleased that your journey has been successful.”

Arya stared as she stood in front of him, but also did not attempt to make physical contact. “We have been apart for more than a year, Aegon, and yet you do not really seem happy to see me.”

It was Margaery that responded, not Aegon, sneering, “Why should he be happy to see you, considering how you have shamed him and yourself with your wanton behavior, _Lady_ Stark?” pronouncing the word ‘Lady’ with contempt.

Arya turned a cold eye to Lady Tyrell, putting her hand on the pommel of her sword, “Who in the seven hells are you to speak to me thusly?! If you had steel at your belt, I would demand an accounting for your insult!” She realized that the speaker was not a woman, but an older teenager, with a full figure and a face as pretty as Sansa’s. She was still not sure of the girl’s identity.

Margaery replied in a haughty voice, “I am Lady Margaery Tyrell of the Reach, and Prince Aegon now favors me as his consort, since it has been revealed that you have the morals of a camp follower!” She wrapped her hand around Aegon’s arm again, and the prince looked uncomfortable with the ugly conversation erupting around him, but still did not speak.

Arya ignored the girl and looked Aegon in the eyes, and with almost a pleading voice, said, “Aegon, I need to speak to you, alone.”

Margaery almost spat out her words, “The prince dares not to be alone with _you_ , you hussy, it would only soil his reputation even more!”

Arya was furious and turned back to Margaery, shouting, “I have had about all I can stand from you, you stupid wench, without stabbing you on the spot! If you do not withdraw this moment, I will skewer you!” and she swiftly pulled Needle from her belt, held the sword upright, and glared menacingly at the girl.

Lady Tyrell was not stupid and took a few steps backwards. Turning to Aegon, she said, “I will wait over there, your grace, within sight but not earshot, while you converse with this tramp who would further damage your honor.” Then she looked back at Arya and laughed, “You look more like a child than a woman! You must have become promiscuous at a tender age, but since you consort with those Dornish harlots, I should not be surprised.”

Arya stared back and considered, _If I poke Needle into her gut, I suppose it would be considered an overreaction!_ Stifling her anger, Arya repeated, “Leave now or I won’t be responsible for the wounds I will inflict upon you!” Margaery smiled smugly and walked away.

Urgently, Arya rushed to Aegon’s side and grabbed his arm, and implored, “Aegon, this is all a misunderstanding! I don’t know what they have told you, but I have not dishonored myself or you! You must _not_ believe this gossip!”

Aegon looked at her sadly, “I have heard some terrible things, Arya, and I do not know what to believe. Even in your own letters, you hinted that you were becoming a libertine.”

Arya blushed and confessed, “Aegon dear, I admit that I have kissed a few boys, and mayhaps been a little more intimate than you would like, which is actually encouraged in Dorne, but I have not given up my maidenhead! I _am_ intact and have no need to be ashamed!”

Aegon replied, “I wish I could believe you, Arya, but everyone is in my ear insisting that I denounce you and take up with Lady Tyrell.”

Arya gave him a dark look, spitting, “By _everyone_ , you mean that predatory bitch, Margaery. She couldn’t be Joffrey’s queen, so she wants to be yours at any cost!”

Margaery lied, she _was_ listening, and she came over to defend herself. “My prince, you know that I only have your best interests in my heart. You know that I would be a better consort than this immodest child! Although she appears as though she has only recently flowered, I wager that she may already be carrying Ned Dayne’s babe!”

Aegon looked pained at this remark and this was too much for Arya. Although Margaery was almost a head taller and thirty pounds heavier, Arya had intended to slap the girl, but upon hearing her last words, closed her hand into a fist and punched her hard right in the face, knocking her to the ground, while shouting, “You rotten bitch, get up and defend yourself!”

Alarmed, Aegon held her back, saying, “Arya, that is enough! You are making a spectacle of yourself!”

Margaery stood up, with her hand on her chin, and tears welled from her eyes, “You should not be surprised, your grace, she is obviously violent and unhinged. Can you imagine her in a position of power? Nae, she should probably be locked away for her own protection. I fear that she has broken my jaw!”

Aegon appeared unhappy with the whole unpleasant encounter, and responded, “Let me see. Nae, I do not think your jaw is broken. I don’t think locking her away is necessary. Your remarks were very insulting, Lady Margaery; let me escort you to your family. Lady Arya, you obviously do not need any protection. I suggest you return to your pavilion and try to get your temper under control.”

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Arya walked despondently back to her tent and poured her heart out to Lady Nym. They discussed matters for a long time, and much later that night, when she was sure that everyone was asleep, she crept out in a dark robe, and quietly slinked into Aegon’s tent, tiptoeing past Ser Rolly, who was nodding on his feet.

She approached his bed and put her hand over his mouth to prevent him from crying out. Aegon awoke and sat up, looking at her with wide eyes and whispering loudly, “Arya! You should not be here!”

The wolf girl, not bold at all now, looked at him imploringly, and said, “Aegon, I had to talk to you alone. That scheming Tyrell wench would not let me say anything to defend myself. You must realize that she wants a crown for her own selfish reasons, and does not really appreciate you. Margaery is vain and only cares about jewelry, gowns, and fancy balls. Can you imagine her having compassion for the smallfolk, as we have discussed?”

Aegon looked at her gravely, “Aye, Lord Jon has also told me that I should be suspicious of her motives, and I have tried to be wary. But I have heard shocking stories about you, Arya, and don’t know what I should do.”

Remembering her mentor’s words, Arya said, “The men who are trying to influence you are hypocrites, and disapprove of Dornish culture because it empowers women. They are afraid of the ideas I would bring. You must not listen to them!”

The prince looked uncomfortable, “I am disturbed about what I have heard about you and Lord Dayne.”

Arya could not help but blush, “I will not pretend to be innocent. Ned Dayne is my friend and I like him a lot, but I only became intimate with him because he reminds me so much of you, and I missed you so much! And even if I kissed him often on our journey here, I did not lose my maidenhead, and did not dishonor you!” The stalwart warrior woman’s lower lip was trembling, and she was trying not to cry, but one small tear trickled down her cheek.

Aegon felt guilty, as he remembered having the same feelings when he kissed Margaery for the first time. He pulled Arya into a gentle, chaste embrace, and murmured, “And I only showed Lady Margaery affection because I desperately missed you, too. Being apart from each other for so long has not been a good thing for either of us. I still love you, and if you still love me, I vow that we will never part company again.”

Arya mumbled into his chest, squeezing him softly, and responded with more vulnerability than she ever would have previously admitted, “I do not want to be separated from you.”

Prince Aegon’s posture stiffened, “Now we have to find a way out of this mess.”

They sat quietly in each other’s arms for a while, until suddenly, Ser Rolly, having heard voices, rushed in and exclaimed urgently, “Lady Arya, You must go! Dawn is approaching and some in the camp are beginning to stir!” As she slipped out quietly, he added, “I, for one, have never doubted you, wolf girl.”

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Lord Jon surprised the women by coming to Lady Nym’s pavilion that morning. After giving a smile and a curt nod to the Sand Snake, he informed Arya that she would likely be confronted in the dining tent at the midday meal. Connington explained the leaders in the camp were of two minds, and since Arya’s return, loud arguments had broken out between the two factions. It seemed that some of the officers of Golden Company, led mainly by Black Balaq, who had never approved of Arya, and several of the more traditional lords and knights of the Crownlands, had always bristled at the influence the Dornish warrior women had brought to the army, and had been happy when they left.

Black Balaq was a confirmed misogynist, and he and his cronies hated empowered females, believing that women were simply vessels to bear their babes, and should always be simpering and subservient. The fact that the Dornish army had a woman general made them crazy. Prince Aegon had made it clear that he considered Arya his betrothed, and they feared that her return would mean more independent Dornish influence, now exemplified in the form of a true lady of a Westerosi Great House. Her enemies decided to use the rumors of her forward behavior to discredit her and replace her with Margaery, knowing that Lady Tyrell and her scheming grandmother had similar goals as theirs.

But there were also members of the Targaryen army that accepted their Dornish allies without reservation and supported Arya, naming her the ‘wolf princess’. Lord Jon said that she could count on these men to argue in her favor. Although not as loud or angry as Balaq’s faction, this group had the advantage in numbers.

\------------------------------------------

Arya entered the dining pavilion, flanked by a stern-faced Lady Nym on one side, and a solemn Lady Ashara on the other. Ashara had implored Nym and Arya not to carry any obvious weapons into the tent, so as not to incite any violence. The warrior women agreed not to wear swords, but had knives hidden on their bodies. Ser Barristan Selmy, the most respected knight in the land, and Lady Ashara’s husband, accompanied them.

The women took their seats at the high table, on the opposite end from the Tyrells. Lady Margaery had an aggrieved expression on her face and a poultice on one side of her mouth. She was working her audience for sympathy, shooting hateful glances at Arya, who ignored her.

Black Balaq stood up and snarled, “Dornish hussies are not welcome here! The she-wolf has dishonored Prince Aegon and is not fit to be his consort. She should be ashamed to show her face in public!” Then he turned to his prince and announced, “Your grace, I respectfully request that you sever your attachment to this wanton wench and choose Lady Margaery Tyrell as your bride. She is of _trustworthy_ noble blood and a better match for you!” Shouts of agreement with Balaq’s words were heard among those assembled.

Arya stared coldly and defiantly at Balaq and retorted, “You hypocrite, considering the reputation you have for abusing camp followers, you have some nerve claiming that I lack morals!” She turned her gaze around the tent, “I have done nothing outside the realm of normal behavior of any man in this room, and I will _not_ be treated differently simply because I am female!” Murmurs of approval followed Arya’s comments.

Black Balaq was still on the offensive, sneering, “It makes no difference if you compare yourself to a man, wolf girl or Sand Snake, whatever you are now, you must realize that you cannot wed the prince unless you are a _maiden_ , which I doubt.”

“I have conformed to your outdated idiosyncrasies, but since you insist on pursuing this, I contend that I am intact, and suitable to wed according to Westerosi mores,” Arya answered, beginning to get angry.

An evil smile appeared on Balaq’s face, “Would you be willing to prove that you are a maiden?”

“Aye, if that will put an end to this ridiculous argument. Half-maester Haldon will inspect me, in the presence of my companions, and will report the results to you.”

“Oh, no,” Balaq’s comrade, the sellsword Ser Tristan Rivers, interjected, “We don’t trust Haldon. He is your friend, and I wouldn’t put it past him to lie for you.”

Now Arya could no longer contain her anger. “I suppose you would propose to look into my cunt _yourself_ , Balaq! But how can we trust that _you_ will tell the truth, since you hate me so much! I insist that I am intact!” Gasps were heard due to Arya’s foul language, but she was past caring about offending with words.

Muttering and arguments continued around the pavilion, as Arya’s supporters felt that Balaq and his minions had an agenda, and only sought to embarrass Arya for their own selfish purposes.

Finally Lady Ashara stood up, and with blazing eyes, loudly stated, “Lady Arya is the daughter of Lord Ned Stark of Winterfell! To doubt her word is to insult one of the noblest Houses in Westeros!” She put her arm around the small girl and looked at her fondly, saying, “My wolf girl has been a challenge to raise, but she is as honest as the day is long, and if she says that she has not dishonored her prince, I believe her and so should you!” Ser Selmy, standing behind his wife, bore a stern expression, and his hand was gripping the pommel of his greatsword, as though to defend her from anyone who would affront her.

Now Lady Nym stood up and said, “I am the girl’s chief mentor, and I know that some of you disapprove of a Dornish education, especially if it is directed at a female, but I will tell you that honesty and moral behavior is just as important in my county as it is in yours, if not more so. I also assert that Lady Arya’s words should be trusted.”

The heated argument went on and on. Finally Golden Company’s paymaster, Gorys Edoryen, who supported Arya, asked, “Griff, you are our leader, what say you?”

Lord Jon stood up slowly, and as all eyes were on him, said thoughtfully, “I have known Lady Arya for several years, long enough to see her grow from an impulsive child to a bold young woman, one who is well aware of her responsibilities. During the duration of our friendship, I have never known her to lie to me or for her to cause me to doubt her reliability. Lady Arya can handle ‘hard truths’ and face hardship rather that ignore unpleasantness. If the ‘wolf princess’ insists that she has not surrendered her maidenhead and still desires to be Prince Aegon’s consort, I take her word as the truth without any reservations, and say, ‘let us move on!’ The divisiveness that I have witnessed here this day would only please our enemies, for it weakens us as a united force!” As Jon mentioned divisiveness, some eyes flickered to Olenna Tyrell, who was beginning to appear uncomfortable.

Ser Rolly stood up, and shouted, “I too, have always trusted the wolf girl, and say, enough of this nonsense!” There was much agreement at his words.

Prince Aegon then stood up and the assemblage became quiet, “At first I doubted Lady Arya, but I admit now that I was wrong to do so. I profess that I love her and still desire her to be my consort. My lords and captains, all of us here today represent an alliance of good people intent on removing the evil Lannisters from power, and I am pleased that my she-wolf has returned, for she makes me whole again.” Aegon approached Arya and embraced her, murmuring, “I am sorry I caused you pain. I want no other woman and will never allow anyone or anything to come between us again.”

Arya smiled brightly and leaned up to kiss his cheek, as shouts went up among her supporters, “Hail the Dragon Prince and the Wolf Princess! Death to the Lannisters!” The Tyrells slunk quietly out of the tent, mostly unobserved, however Lord Jon motioned for guards to escort them to their pavilion and prevent them from causing any more trouble.

Lord Jon put up his hands for silence and stared pointedly at Black Balaq, Ser Tristan Rivers, and their disgruntled companions, “So we are agreed that we are one army, that we welcome the Dornish warrior women as our allies, and that we will focus on the real problem, expelling the Lannisters from the Red Keep?” Balaq nodded sullenly and the others followed suit, realizing that they represented a minority opinion, and should not press their issue. “Good!” Jon continued, “Let us finish our meal and get back to work.”

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After the confrontation in the mess tent, Lord Jon took the opportunity to reconnect with Lady Nymeria, walking her back to her pavilion. She gave him an impish grin and said, “I believe that we have some unfinished business.” Jon recalled the passionate kiss they had shared before the Dornish party climbed aboard their ship so long ago. Not wanting to appear as eager as a green boy greedy for a kiss, he softly brushed his hand against her head instead, saying, “I see that you have let your hair grow out.”

Nym’s tresses were past her shoulder now, and were not braided, but bound with gold and copper wire, which contrasted nicely with her glossy black locks. She had listened carefully as Arya had described for her on shipboard how Nestor had delighted to open her braids and brush out her hair, and she decided on the spot to let her hair grow out again for romantic purposes. The Sand Snake’s instincts were right, as Lord Jon stroked the single plait, and murmured, “I like it this way.”

Nym was looking at him as though she was expecting a kiss as he observed what a beautiful young woman she was, and he felt grateful that she actually desired him. Jon leaned in and kissed her lips chastely, without the hunger he had revealed on the dock, but quickly broke off the kiss and said, “Nymeria, I have been alone for a long, long time, and find you very tempting, but I will not join your long list of lovers and wait impatiently for your attention. I will not share you with other men.”

The Sand Snake looked closely at him and leaned against his chest, stroking it gently, and replied softly with lowered eyelashes, “Lord Jon, although you have more than twice my years, I find that I am very attracted to you. From almost the moment I met you, I have wanted to put a smile on your serious face, and I want to see lust, also. If you take me into your bed, I will forgo taking any other men as lovers while we remain together, and we will see where the relationship leads us.”

Lord Jon nuzzled her throat, “I would like that.” This time when he kissed her, they tangled tongues for a while, caressing and learning about each other’s body. He heard Nym sigh and relax in his arms, but before he allowed himself to become aroused, he broke off the kiss and said, “My lady, I must reluctantly suggest that we avoid any intimacy until we have achieved our purpose, as the distraction of lovemaking will interfere with our soldierly obligations.”

Lady Nym pouted, “And I was just about to throw off my robes! But I suppose you are right. We have much work to do.” Then her eyes gleamed and her countenance took on that wicked grin again, “I hope that this delay inflames your desire as it will mine, and increase the pleasure we will eventually share.”

The older man’s face briefly expressed lust, and he replied, “I will not need much inducement, Nymeria, as I have dreamt of bedding you since you invited my attention at Lady Ashara and Ser Barristan’s wedding. I am just being practical.”

“Well, hold on tight to your dreams, my lord, mayhaps we can make them real soon enough.”

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Aegon and Arya left the dining pavilion hand in hand, excited to be reunited again, and relieved to learn that they had not lost any of the affection they felt for each other. Nymeria joined them and she rubbed against Aegon’s leg and whined, and the prince scratched her behind her ear and cooed that he had missed her. The direwolf was very fond of him, but had been confused by the emotions she sensed at the first meeting and the argument that included Margaery. Nymeria had returned to the pavilion with Arya and stayed there sulking all morning. Now she was delighted to see her two favorite humans together again. Arya turned to Aegon and said, “I have a surprise for you. Meet me in the training yard in ten minutes,” and she hurried to her tent.

Arya entered the training yard in her warrior woman garb. “How do you like my new clothes?” she asks, twirling around for him with a pleased expression on her pretty face.

Aegon was familiar with seeing her in silk robes or a tunic and breeches, but this new outfit was completely different. He realized how much she had matured since last he saw her. Arya wore a bustier containing her small bosom, a small armored skirt, and her breeches had been trimmed to expose her lovely thighs and cute round bottom. Aegon remembered how fixated Bokko had been on Arya’s arse, and it looked even more enticing now. “I suppose you sparred all the time in Dorne dressed like that?” he asked with disapproval in his voice.

“Aye, all the time,” she replied with a grin.

“And no one complained about the distraction?” Aegon countered, obviously fuming.

Arya smiled, “Nae, no one complained. They seemed to enjoy it.”

“I wager that they did.”

“If my garb offends you, your grace, should I remove it?” Arya intoned suggestively as she started to open the laces of the bustier, even though they were standing in a public area.

In a panic, Aegon stayed her hands, “Nae, nae, do not remove your armor here!” he told her with panic in his voice.

“All right, I’ll wait until we are alone,” she purred mischievously while fixing her bustier which had been unlaced just enough to reveal her small but enticing cleavage, and Aegon realized that he had become aroused. “Come,” Arya added while taking his hand, “let us go to my pavilion."

 _By the gods!_ He thought, _Arya’s time with Lady Nym has been profitable, but I am not sure if I approve of all that she has learned! And it certainly has not kept her out of trouble!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you think that Arya got off too easily, know that before the actual wedding she will have to be ‘inspected’ by the High Septon himself to prove her purity. It will be an interesting scene.


	55. Back in Business

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 55 Back in Business

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Previously: “All right, I’ll wait until we are alone,” she purred mischievously while fixing her bustier which had been unlaced just enough to reveal her small but enticing cleavage, and Aegon realized that he had become aroused. “Come,” Arya added while taking his hand, “let us go to my pavilion.”

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Arya led the prince to her pavilion by the hand. As they entered, Lord Jon and Lady Nym were just leaving, both with smiling faces. Nym’s mouth was puffy and her makeup was in slight disarray, and Jon’s cheeks were flushed, with traces of makeup on _his_ face, and he looked embarrassed when he saw the youngsters. “My lord,” Aegon caught his attention, “You might want to wipe your face before going out,” and offered him a hand towel he found draped over a chair. Jon took the cloth and rubbed it over his face, and when he saw the color deposited on it, hurriedly returned it to Aegon’s hand, blushing intensely. Nym looked back and grinned, and when the adults were gone, Arya and Aegon exchanged glances and giggled. “We almost caught them smooching! That would have been funny,” Arya grinned. Aegon had no idea what to think about his mentor now, but suspected that their next meeting would be awkward.

The she-wolf seated Aegon on a bed and stood confidently in front of him, remembering how much his expression showed admiration when she first appeared in her new garb. “Well,” she ventured, “you haven’t seen me in almost ten and eight moons, what do you think?” and she twirled around once more for him.

The prince was admiring her, and he replied, “Well, your hips are wider and you have a real waist, and,” he gently turned her around, “your arse is even rounder, very nice,” and returned her position to face him again.

“Is that all you see?” Arya inquired expectantly.

“Um, nae, you have breasts now,” he added with a rush of breath.

“Would you like to see them?” she asked with flashing eyes and a grin.

“Aye,” it sounded more like a prayer than affirmation.

Arya made a show of removing her bustier, slowly opening the laces and spreading the boiled leather, while still screening her bosom. Finally in one rapid flourish, she pulled the bustier over her head and stood boldly facing him, her breasts inches from his nose and quivering slightly. Aegon gulped loudly and visibly marveled at the sight, exclaiming, “Arya! You are beautiful!” His hands reached out to hold the inviting globes, he cupped them gently, and applied gentle pressure, awestruck at how round and soft they were. Aegon had been acquainted with her pointy raspberry teats, and was now pleased to see ‘the twins’ on the top of two precious little hills. He murmured reverently, “I can hold your whole breast in the palm of my hand!” The prince was becoming captivated and continued to stare at her bosom.

The she-wolf’s eyes grew dark and she scowled, “Humph! I wager you would prefer to fondle that cow Margaery’s huge breasts!”

“Nae, I like yours, because they _are_ yours!” Aegon replied dramatically.

“Then prove it!” Arya demanded.

Aegon merely moved his face forward the few inches that separated their bodies, and began to suck on one breast, while caressing the other and squeezing the teat, and then duplicated his efforts on the other one. He was breathing heavily and making slurping noises, obviously enjoying himself.

Arya clutched his head and moaned, “Oh, I have wanted _your_ mouth on my breasts for so long! I wrote you that I liked to be fondled, but I craved your touch most of all, and I was right. I need _your_ attention!”

They remained in that position for some time, Aegon seated on the bed, worshipping her bosom, Arya, naked to the waist, leaning into him, head back and moaning. One of the lad’s hands was stroking the breast not presently in his mouth, and the other was squeezing her firm round arse.

Suddenly they were interrupted by Haldon, who abruptly rushed in without announcing himself, urgently proclaiming, “Your grace! There has been a raven with news from Essos! I came as soon as I read the missive! Oh!” He stopped and stared, “I am sorry, Prince Aegon, I should not have entered without warning! Forgive me!” and turned his eyes away with some embarrassment.

While Arya giggled and made no move to appear more modestly, Aegon removed his mouth from her breast and fixed his eyes on the half-maester, saliva still dripping from his lips, and said, “Well, you are already here, so you might as well relate your report.” He removed his hands from the she-wolf’s body, and she covered herself with a robe that was draped over a nearby chair.

Mortified, and still avoiding eye contact, Haldon said, “We received a message from a reliable source that your aunt Daenerys has been seen leading a large army in Essos, and there are rumors that she has dragons, too!”

Aegon replied, “That is very interesting! We must go discuss this information with Lord Jon. Lady Arya, would you join me?”

Arya nodded her head and said, “Aye, but I will go with you.” Then she directed a smirk at the half-maester, saying lightly, “Haldon, there is no need to be ill at ease. You are _our_ maester, and at some time in the future, Aegon and I will be discussing family planning with you.” To the wicked girl’s delight, the half-maester blushed even more at her words.

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After the evening meal, Arya told Aegon to expect a visit from her later, as they had unfinished business. In trying to avoid any further scandal, Arya slipped into his tent late at night when everyone should be sleeping. Ser Rolly was dimly aware of her entrance, but only grunted and rolled over in his alcove.

Aegon sat up in his bed when he saw her. He was bare to the waist. Arya moved to him and ordered, “Kiss me like you really missed me,” pressing her body against him, and he could feel her hard teats through the silk robe. Her tongue snaked into his mouth and the prince became excited as she boldly explored, realizing that she had gained much kissing experience while they were apart. Aegon’s hands cupped her breasts and fondled them through the silk. Her hand slipped down inside his smallclothes, and she murmured, “I want to see if you have grown into a stallion.”

At the touch of her hand on his cock, Aegon exclaimed, “Oh!” and immediately became aroused.

“Well, let’s see what we have here,” Arya said as she pushed his smallclothes down and critically examined his package. “Hmmm,” she commented after a moment, “You have grown larger, _and_ thicker, methinks. Sarra says that is a very good thing, and I cannot wait to find out what she means by that. Now, can you grow even more?” and she began to stroke his member.

He panted, “Arya, be careful, I fear that I am losing control!”

“Don’t be a green boy, your grace,” she snickered, but removed her hand. “We will have lots of time for losing control later.”

Now she stood back and capturing his eyes, announced, “Now I want you should see me,” and carefully loosened her silk robes, sliding them first off of one shoulder, then the other, and finally let them fall slowly to the floor, exposing her pert breasts fully to his view. Aegon also admired her lacy, feminine silk smallclothes, saying, “You should always wear those.”

Arya grinned wickedly and retorted, ”You will like me better _without_ them!” and loosened the laces and let them fall slowly to the floor with a wiggle of her hips. Aegon smiled and recalled how after the wedding at Harrenhal she had come to his bed and done a little strip tease as Lady Nym had coached her. It was cute even though her curves had not developed yet, and there was no hair on her mound when she slipped on her nightie, but now, he was quite stimulated by her body. Earlier that day, he had marveled at her hips, waist, and arse, but now her mound was prominently on display, covered in soft delicate brown curls, and at the tempting sight, his cock immediately stood up at attention, catching Arya’s eyes, which became very wide, and she exclaimed, “Oh, my!”

“Arya, I think we both should put on some clothing,” Aegon choked out the words as beads of sweat appeared on his forehead, “as I confess that I have become overcome with the desire to make love to you right now, and that would not be wise!”

The wolf girl was still staring at his cock, which seemed to be demanding her attention, and she responded, “Aegon, I think you are right, because in another moment I may impale myself on you and care nothing for the consequences!” She only tore her eyes from him after he pulled up his smallclothes and hid his privates, and then slid a nightshirt over his head, as Arya grabbed her robes from the floor and hastily dressed.

They were still staring at each other and panting, and Arya ventured, “Even if we do nothing more tonight, I would like to kiss you again.” Fully clothed now, they moved closer, embraced gently, and focused solely on tangling tongues, both thinking about their time apart, and how they had longed for the intimacy they were now enjoying. As they shared the warm and tender kiss, both lovers noticed a powerful reaction developing in their emotions. Arya thought, _I have kissed so many boys since leaving Harrenhal, but not one affected me even half as much as Aegon! The special bond I felt in Harrenhal is still present!_

For his part, Aegon became startled and drew back, his eyes glazed staring at her in confusion and wonderment. He blurted out, “I felt something unusual! I need to kiss you again.” They resumed kissing and the sensation was repeated, a tingling from head to toes, a mixture of sexual desire and familial affection, more comforting that a favorite meal, as cozy as being wrapped in a flannel blanket on a cold night with the wind howling outside the window. He realized that he had missed her touch more than he ever could have imagined.

Arya was trying to make sense of her feelings. She reflected on her kisses with other boys. With Gendry, they had been pure passion. The young smith had lit a fire in her belly when he had embraced her, and at the time she was reminded of how she and Aegon had witnessed Lady Nym riding Ser Rolly, urging each other to a mutual explosive release. Although she had been so young, she had imagined coupling with Gendry and seeking that pleasure. When Nestor kissed her, he tenderly held her and fondled her hair, as though he worshipped her, murmuring that she was a special princess. Her trysts with Arron mirrored their shared classroom lessons; they explored each other’s body with almost academic curiosity, learning about sexuality by way of experimentation. She really wasn’t crushing on him, but enjoyed their time together. Ned Dayne’s kisses gave her comfort when she most needed it – learning that her beloved brother Jon was actually her cousin, surviving her first battle. When she had needed an embrace and a kiss, he was there to console her and assure her that everything would be all right. Now she realized that Aegon’s kiss was a combination of all these experiences, and the one that she cherished the most.

She abruptly recalled Sansa gushing, oh so long ago, about some tale she read about a Princess Giselle of Andalasia, who after a series of adventures, recognized her perfect prince by his ‘true love’s kiss’. Sansa had swooned over the story and jabbered on endlessly about how she wanted to find her predestined prince and experience that special kiss. Stunned, Arya thought, _No, Sansa could not have been right! This is not a fairy tale!_ The thought was much too romantic for her, and she almost gagged and brought up dinner. The bold wolf-snake banished the notion to the deepest dungeon of her mind, and thought, _if I ever tell Aegon what I was just thinking, he will laugh and tease me for the rest of my life!_

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Arya had been eager to meet Tyene Sand, the third Sand Snake. Whereas the two older bastard daughters were much like their father, Prince Oberyn - tall and olive-skinned, with dark eyes and hair; Tyene took after her septa mother. She appeared small, soft, and delicate, with a pale complexion, blonde hair and blue eyes. Nym had told Arya that Tyene appeared innocent, but was as experienced in the erotic arts as her older sister, and a master at mixing poisons. Although Tyene had seen ten and nine namedays, she was scarcely taller than Arya.

Tyene eyed the Sand Snake bracelet on Arya’s arm. “Wolf girl, we have something in common, a hatred of the Lannisters and contempt for Joffrey Baratheon. I heard you caused much turmoil when you wounded and humiliated him, and as a fortuitous result, met our cousin Aegon. I find it amazing that such a small girl could cause such a commotion.”

“I am _not_ a small girl!” Arya protested, “You are not much larger than I and yet you managed to secretly poison Joffrey and escape the Red Keep!”

Tyene smiled, “That proves my point. It is not the size of the girl in the fight, but the size of fight in the girl. Welcome to the Sand Snake sisterhood, Arya Stark,” and she hugged her tightly. Then her face displayed a wicked grin much like Nym’s when she meant to say something shocking, and japed, “Although you are not _of_ the seed of the our father, I believe that you are intimately familiar _with_ his seed. I understand that you also craved and received a _variety_ of kisses from Prince Oberon.”

Arya blushed a deep red color, realizing that Lady Nym had told her sister all the sordid details about her tryst with their father, and she was very uncomfortable. Tyene smiled, “Not to worry, wolf-snake, my dear sister must have taught you _very_ well if you were able to seduce the Red Viper at your tender age. Nym told me that he confessed his guilt like a green boy when she confronted him. I would love to have been a witness to _that_ conversation. You will certainly be a formidable threat to your enemies.”

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After his disastrous late night tryst with the she-wolf, Ned Dayne lagged behind the main party and did not rush to King’s Landing, as he wanted to create some distance between Arya and himself. Lord Ned finally reached the site of the siege forces, and was lucky enough to arrive well after the turmoil about Arya and Margaery was over.

Arya and Aegon were holding hands as Lord Dayne approached and introduced himself as the Lord of Starfall, then bent the knee to his liege lord. Aegon returned the greeting and formally added, “This is my betrothed, Lady Arya Stark.”

“We became acquainted on the roseroad, your grace,” Ned replied carefully.

Arya grinned and said, “We celebrated the victory over the Tyrells together.”

The young Lord of Starfall was blushing as Aegon eyed him with a bit of resentment in his voice, “I’m sure you did.”

Ned excused himself, backing away politely and hastily making an exit.

Aegon studied Arya, “I find myself uncomfortable meeting a boy you have kissed.”

“In that case, prepare to be uncomfortable often,” she responded with a gleam in her eye.

“I suppose that wherever we go in Westeros, I will meet boys that you have kissed?”

“I suppose you are right, but I did not kiss _every_ boy I met!”

Aegon shook his head, “Lord Jon had it right, you _are_ a challenge for any boy foolish enough to love you.”

Arya smiled, nibbled his throat and dragged her tongue around the shell of his ear, sending jolts of electricity right down to his cock. “Do you regret taking me on as a challenge, your grace?” she breathed into his ear.

“Never in my life,” he responded, and pulled her in for a sweet kiss.

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Ned Dayne, watching from a distance, sighed, and walked away. Sarra observed him, tapping her foot, and wondering if she should ‘console’ him. “Lord Dayne, do not pine for the wolf princess. You know that it will do you no good. Mayhaps I can comfort you,” giving him a wide smile and stroking his cheek, lowering her sensuous eyelashes.

Ned smiled appreciatively, responding, “I thank you for your concern, Sarra. You are a lovely girl, but I would only value intimacy with the girl I would wed. I love Lady Arya and am heartbroken knowing that she could never be mine.”

“You would not consider courting me?” Sarra asked curiously, seeking to know more about this sensitive and handsome lad.

“Any boy would be most fortunate to have you in his life, but I am afraid that I would be too boring for you. You lead the exciting, adventurous life of a Sand Snake, and I could never keep you happy,” he volunteered sadly.

“Well, I like you, and urge you not to worry about all that,” Sarra replied, moving closer and purring into his ear, “Cannot we become ‘friends with benefits’?” while giving him an inviting and sultry smile.

“I am afraid, my lady, that I would regret that action once I meet my true love,” Ned shook his head and declined.

Sarra sighed, “All I want is some lusty lad who has no misgivings about taking me into the stable and pounding me against the wall until I pass out with pleasure, and lately all I meet are you honorable young men!”

“I am sure you will get what you want eventually,” Ned smiled, “there are few men who could deny a beauty like you anything.”

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The Dornish wagon train finally arrived at the encampment, and Arya’s chest was delivered to her pavilion. She sent a message for Aegon to join her there. When he arrived, he noticed with distaste that it was a horrid mess as usual, with clothing all over floor and hanging over chair backs, and piles of possessions on the seats. Lady Nym and Sarra apparently didn’t seem to mind the clutter. Arya had no use for organization; her clothes lay wherever she discarded them. When dressing, she would pick up an item from the floor, sniff it, and put it on. Aegon recalled what a mess Lady Ashara’s pavilion was when Arya first moved in. The prince was appalled by her lack of neatness, as he was very fastidious – he liked his shirts spotlessly white, and the laundresses knew to fold and put away freshly cleaned clothing in his chest. Looking around the chaotic tent, Aegon thought, _when we are wed and sharing a chamber, I am going to paint a white line down the center of the room and insist that she keep her rubbish on her side of the line, and not leave any on mine. I don’t know how I will be able to live with her!_

Aegon turned his attention to the wolf-girl, who was standing by a pile of books, parchments, slates, and a box of chalk, ink pots, and quills. She said, “As I wrote you, I plan to improve Golden Company’s artillery. I have no desire to sit around doing nothing during the siege. Come, help me carry these goods to Haldon and we can begin working.” Then she grinned, “I want to drop a rock on a Lannister head.”

Arya told Haldon that Maester Caleotte had taught her about projectiles, and showed him the books of geometry and trigonometry that the Dornish maester had loaned her, looking for all the world like a mother about to sacrifice her children, extracting a promise from Arya that she would take good care of his treasures. Arya explained that she had learned how to improve the range and accuracy of the war machines. Haldon listened closely and shook his head, reluctantly saying, “I know little of this subject. In this situation, my lady, you are the maester now, and I am the student.” Arya smiled and liked the feeling of power that his words gave her.

Using the slates, parchments, and images in the books, she explained and reviewed what she intended to do, until both Haldon and Aegon nodded that they understood her plans. Arya was very serious with her calculations and had Aegon check her sums frequently. The prince noticed that the messy girl had become so absorbed in her efforts that there was chalk dust and ink everywhere she touched. Aegon thought that she was so adorable with an ink smudge on her rosy cheek and her hair coming loose from her braid that he went closer to kiss her, and she got annoyed at the distraction, scolding him for not being serious. Haldon smiled at their interaction.

When they were ready to approach the artillery men, Arya decided to counter the stereotype, dressing in delicate silks which enhanced her modest figure, and decorated herself with her Sand Snake arm bracelet, direwolf brooch, and Aegon’s necklace. She wore her hair loosely and drawn back from her face with two small braids gathered behind her head, applying light makeup as a finishing touch. Sarra suggested a modest shade of pink lip wax and just enough kohl to make her eyes appear even larger. Arya gazed into the glass and laughed, “I look as harmless as one of Sansa’s porcelain dolls!” She reckoned, _if the innocent act works for Tyene, why not me?_ The soldiers looked wary, thinking that her presence must be a jape, as the demure maiden in front of them had no business being anywhere near instruments of death. The she wolf inspected the catapults and trebuchets carefully, and made suggestions for improving their construction. The carpenters looked doubtful, but since this girl obviously had the ear of the Prince, they followed her orders.

Arya tested the weapons, making notes and recalculations, and adjusted the settings on the war machines, painting marks on them after observing the results. As she experimented, the crew bounced exploratory rocks against the walls of the city, right below a group of jeering guards who started taunting the artillery crew sarcastically for their faulty aim. Arya distinctly heard one derisive soldier shout, “I fart in your general direction!” The wolf-snake’s eyes narrowed and she pursed her lips in anger. Arya made a few more calculations and reset the adjustments, and then had the soldiers reload the bucket, shouting, “Let it fly!” The rocks landed directly on the mocking guards, and Arya was satisfied to see one rock land on the most offensive one, splitting his head open like a ripe melon. As Arya watches his blood splatter all over his alarmed neighbors, she smiled evilly and said, “Serves him right, the arsehole!” She shouted up at the dismayed Lannister minions, “Fuck you, you cowardly lions!” One of Prince Aegon’s artillery men muttered “The little lady appears as innocent as my guileless daughter, but looks can obviously deceive; she is really a bloodthirsty wench!” The crew looked at Arya with new respect, and now jumped quickly when she gave orders.

Under Arya’s direction, the artillery crews continued to target the manned parapets of the city’s walls, and landed some loads in the bailey directly behind the walls, also. The she-wolf was curious as to the damage caused by the rocks falling within, and decided to see if she could warg into any of the numerous pigeons flying around the city. She found that the pigeons were not very smart, but had very good eyesight. Using the pigeons as spies, she was able to determine the time of changing of the guards, and dropped a load of rocks on a surprised troop of soldiers as they marched across the bailey. Even when they altered the time of changing, Arya knew and reacted aggressively.

The Lannisters soon learned that their walls could only protect them so much, and were wary of artillery attacks. Suspicious Lord Tywin Lannister suspected that there were spies among his guards, and some unfortunate men suffered torture and death as he unsuccessfully tried to discover the secret of the timely strikes on his soldiers. Their problems increased when flaming bundles of oil-soaked kindling started landing on the Lannister catapults, and destroyed several of them. If the castle artillery strove to counterattack, Golden Company simply moved their war machines out of range. Arya was very pleased with her combat effort, thinking, _I have to send a raven to Maester Caleotte and thank him._ Lord Jon praised her at an evening meal, as Aegon gazed at his consort with admiration and affection, and it went right to the she-wolf’s head. _I must tell Father!_ she thought with pride.

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General Obara Sand was leaving a dinner council with her captains and saw her sister Nymeria at a distance talking to a tall soldier. Lady Nym noticed Obara and motioned for her to approach. When she was close by, Nym smiled and said, “Honey, let me introduce you to my redheaded friend!”

The soldier’s name was Ser Rolly Duckfield, or ‘Duck’ to his friends, and he was of a formidable size, very tall and muscular, with a thick head of hair and beard of a shocking red color. He had even teeth and the wrinkles around his eyes implied that he was a man who smiled often. His outfit and weapons indicated that he was a tested and successful soldier. Nym informed her sister that Ser Rolly was Prince Aegon’s master-at-arms, his sworn shield, and a valuable member of the prince’s entourage.

The two warriors sized each other up coolly. Obara was impressed with Rolly’s proportions and obvious strength, as she seldom met a man she considered her equal. Duck certainly seemed to fill the bill. For his part, Ser Rolly gazed at General Obara with frank admiration. Obara was unusually tall for a woman, and her shoulders were as wide as a man’s – she looked strong enough to pull a knight off a horse with the bullwhip she wore at her belt, and she had a huge greatsword strapped to her back. Obara had a mass of unruly dark hair, and her features not nearly as attractive as her sister’s, but rough and tough. Rolly thought, _she would look pretty enough after two goblets of wine, well, mayhaps three._

What Duck didn’t know was that the eldest Sand Snake’s appetites were such that she had left many a virile knight a quivering mass of self-conscious man flesh, begging for another opportunity to prove his masculinity to her. Her liege soldiers japed that few of her partners even survived to describe the act of making love to their general. They said that Obara was lethal, and were proud of her strength.

Lady Nym slyly added that Ser Rolly was a mountain of a man in more ways than one, and Obara laughed harshly, inviting Duck to accompany her to her pavilion.

Passers-by to Obara’s pavilion soon heard extremely loud grunts and moans, as though two angry aurochs were fighting inside. After a while the whole pavilion began to vibrate and shake violently, and suddenly the tent imploded, collapsing completely on the couple inside, almost suffocating them. As a crowd gathered, Obara and Duck fought their way out from under the heavy canvas, naked but unashamed, to the hoots, laughter, and applause of their amused audience. The couple bowed, smiled, and disappeared under the canvas again, and together managed to raise the center pole so they could continue their vociferous amorous activities.

The next morning, Duck woke up out of deep sleep, and with his head still spinning, realized that there was an iron clamp around his ankle, connected to a chain attached to Obara’s bed. The Sand Snake entered and smirked at him. “Yes, you are my prisoner and I am going to keep you as long as you are a worthwhile lover. My sister tells me that you are also quite skilled with your tongue, so tonight you will prove that you deserve the praise. If you please me, I will allow you limited freedom.”

With a panicked expression, Ser Rolly asked, “Is there any chance that you would accept a ransom for me?”

Obara gave him a wicked grin, “Mayhaps, but only when I am done with you.”

The captured knight was crestfallen, “So I am doomed.”

“Not to worry. If you die, you will have a smile on your face. For the moment, satisfy me this morning and I will serve you breakfast in bed, as attentive as a meek kitchen maid,” the lusty Sand Snake assured him as she began to pull her tunic over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Yes, I know. I had the audacity to allude to a favorite oeuvre that often serves as an inspiration for my writings. I hope no one was offended. If the reference actually amused you, please let me know. As I have said before, be glad there are no talking animals in this fic. Actually, there are quite a few anachronisms in this chapter. I guess I got carried away. Sorry. (Not really!)


	56. The Siege Continues

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 56 The Siege Continues

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Previously:

With a panicked expression, Ser Rolly asked, “Is there any chance that you would accept a ransom for me?”

Obara gave him a mischievous grin, “Mayhaps, but only when I am done with you.”

The captured knight was crestfallen, “So I am doomed.”

“Not to worry. If you die, you will have a smile on your face. For the present, satisfy me this morning and I will serve you breakfast in bed, as attentive as a meek kitchen maid,” the lusty Sand Snake assured him as she began to pull her tunic over her head.

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The biggest problem the commanders had with the siege was combatting boredom. The captains kept their soldiers sparring to maintain their skill at swordplay, and so they would remain occupied and out of trouble. Competitions were organized between the camps, testing proficiency at knife-throwing, wooden swords combat, and archery. Wagers were set, which made the contests more interesting. The knights held horse races, which entertained many in the army, and of course provided more opportunities for gambling.

Japing was another way to pass the time, and when Arya informed the prince that his strangely absent sworn shield had been imprisoned as General Obara’s personal sex slave, Aegon rolled his eyes and replied, “You Sand Snakes scare me.” However, he and Lord Jon made a public show of ransoming Duck from Obara, and Prince Aegon was obliged to sign a contract that required Ser Rolly to perform certain services for the Dornish general or become her prisoner again. Everyone was very amused, except of course Duck, although he admitted that he had never had a lover like Obara and had no complaints about his time spent with her. Lady Nym snickered that he better be aware that his cock might fall off, or worse, he might sprain his tongue and be unable to feed himself.

Arya, herself, had a busy schedule, as she was constantly training with knives, both from a stationary position and on horseback, the spear, and two shortswords. She found Bokko and resumed her water dancing lessons. Bokko, the dog that he was, noticed immediately that the she-wolf had grown into a tempting young maiden, and welcomed her return with an embrace that included pressing his chest against her developing bosom, and a squeeze of both cheeks of her arse, from which she quickly disengaged herself. He invited the girl into his bed, repeating his earlier offer to teach her another form of dancing. Arya reminded the shameless sellsword that she was betrothed to the Prince, and with a smirk informed him she could probably teach him a thing or two now, anyway. Bokko was intrigued, but the wolf girl refused say any more; she only assumed the initial water dancing stance and motioned for him to take the complementary position.

The wolf girl also played cyvasse with Homeless Harry Strickland, and he was very happy to have her back in Golden Company’s camp, showing his affection by supplying her with candied ginger, her favorite sweet treat. He eagerly asked her to recount her adventures on the high seas and in Dorne, and she complied, entertaining him with stories, but leaving out the erotic parts, knowing that he would be shocked and dismayed. Although Harry had been privy to the scandalous rumors that had circulated about the wolf princess, he still thought of her as an innocent maiden, and would not hear otherwise. Arya thought him to be very fatherly, and enjoyed his company.

Golden Company’s spymaster, Lysono Maar, wanted to hear about Dorne, and paid careful attention to the details she had learned about the Martell royal court and the country itself. The paymaster, Gorys Edoryen, was pleased to have Arya back also, and began teaching Arya, Sarra, and Aegon about the finances and requirements of conducting a siege and running an army. The three youngsters were good students, having accepted the fact that responsibilities like these would be theirs to pursue when Aegon became king.

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Young Lord Edric Dayne’s emotions were in a turmoil, as he still felt a strong connection to the wolf princess and now it pained him to see her with Aegon, the two of them obviously a self-absorbed couple. To complicate matters, Sarra had been making overtures, inviting him into a relationship, and he had no idea what to do with Arya’s forward companion. Lord Ned met his aunt, Lady Ashara, who broke down sobbing and embracing him tightly, observing his resemblance to her brother, Ser Arthur, the Sword of the Morning, and second only to her husband, Ser Barristan the Bold, as the most noble knight in Westeros. Neither of them had any other remaining close relatives.

Ned had only seen ten and five namedays, but he was the lord of Starfall, a major and illustrious House of Dorne. The young nobleman had many responsibilities, and strove to keep his bannermen and soldiers occupied with drills during the siege. His captains and sergeants were still convinced that he had bedded the she-wolf, having been first-hand witnesses to the midnight moans of pleasure emanating from his pavilion. They assumed that since Arya was also a Sand Snake, one man would not be enough to satisfy her needs, and reckoned that, as queen, she would take Ned as her paramour. They wondered how that would affect his requirements as lord of his House if he remained in King’s Landing with the royal couple. Around their campfires at night, his bannermen reflected on how strange life was: Their lord was obsessed with a Stark maiden that supposedly resembles her aunt, who was the cause of the death of the lad’s famous uncle, Ser Arthur, killed by the sword of the girl’s father, when he was ordered by his prince to protect her aunt. It was all very confusing to them, but as one soldier japed, “Aye, the highborns seem to follow a code of their own, or mayhaps, no code at all.”

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Arya and Aegon finally found time to spar in the training yard, assessing how each other’s skills had improved during their separation. Arya demonstrated what she had learned about the variety of weapons that she now wielded, and the prince was suitably impressed. “You are truly becoming a warrior woman, and I hope we can win this war side by side.” For her part, Arya was pleased to observe that Aegon was also growing up – he had gained a few inches of height, his shoulders were broader, his arms more muscular and he had added some mass on his torso and legs. The prince was a lad of only ten and six namedays, but the signs were there that he would eventually be as strong and powerful as his father. He was routinely sparring with a bastard sword, but would soon be strong enough to start practicing, at least part of the time, with a greatsword.

Lessons with the Half-maester resumed, and Arya, Aegon, and Sarra attended his pavilion often. Haldon had been addressing Sarra’s keen interest in politics since Harrenhal, and now he said that the Dornish girl was to be groomed as the future Hand. Her studies focused on the details of leading a government in the capital and maintaining control of the liege lords of the kingdom. With the help of paymaster Edoryen, he taught them about finances, especially the necessary evil of foreign loans.

The young lord of Starfall required more education, and found time to join the lessons, too. Prince Aegon was stiff and formal at first, but the outgoing lad eventually became friendly to Ned, as he and young Lord Dayne had much in common, and not just affection for the wolf girl.

Arya told Aegon that he should sit down with Ned and a flagon of wine and learn what bedroom practices pleased her. Aegon frowned and retorted, “I prefers to learn those things on my own,” and the she-wolf just snickered and replied that talking to Ned would save him some time and effort, but he just scowled at her, muttering about ‘brazen Sand Snakes’.

Sometimes as they gathered for lessons, Sarra would feel a bit naughty, and teased the lads. She kissed her ‘dear cousin’ on the cheek and squeezed his thigh, then looked at Ned, saying, “Are you jealous?” She would quickly kiss _him_ on the cheek, but secretly lick him, and squeezed him higher on _his_ thigh. The prince would look uncomfortable, Ned would blush, and both boys would be distracted. Arya giggled at the sight. The serious half-maester would scold Sarra and Arya for their behavior, but both girls would giggle even more. Haldon would shake his head, reminding himself how young his charges were, even if they represented the future leaders of the country.

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The young warrior woman continued working with the artillerymen, and she always dressed as one of Sansa’s porcelain dolls. Out of her earshot the soldiers referred to her as ‘Bloody Bessie’. The wolf girl’s ten and third nameday arrived, and she celebrated by ordering a continuous bombardment of King’s Landing, stating that she intended to kill one Lannister for each of her years. Lord Tywin was furious and ordered his men to stay at their posts and answer the attack, but they got the worst of it. However, they did manage to make a direct strike on the catapult that Arya was commanding, shattering it to bits, and sending out a shower of dangerous flying splinters.

Arya instantly felt intense pain in her face and forearm, and fell to the ground from the impact of the shrapnel. She recovered her wits and put up her hand to her face, coming away with blood, and realized that she had taken a splinter in the cheek, but luckily it did not damage her eye. She looked around and saw several members of her crew on the ground. The artilleryman that had compared her to his daughter came rushing to her side, wearing an expression of fear and anxiety, exclaiming, “Bessie, I mean milady, you are injured!” His name was Rufus, and he was a vassal of a Crownlands lord. Rufus felt very protective of the she-wolf, as his sweet, innocent daughter at home had as many namedays as Arya and was still playing with her dolls.

Arya was wiping the blood off of her face with her robe and assessing the damage to her arm, and replied, “Only a flesh wound, Rufus! Look to the fallen men, some probably need attention!” They were relieved to see that no injuries were mortal, and a maester soon came to bandage the wounds. Arya insisted that she be last, as she felt that her wounds were minor compared to others. Once she was assured that all the injured were being cared for, she rushed to a nearby war machine and directed them to target the catapult that had caused injury to her men. She would not rest until it was destroyed.

As soon as a load was delivered, Arya gazed at the offending machine and noticed a tall knight standing nearby, resplendent in gold and red gleaming armor. She realized that the knight was none other than Lord Tywin Lannister, her archenemy. She angrily shook her fist at him, and he stared coldly back and made an obscene gesture. At that moment the load of rocks struck and the catapult exploded, scattering the crew, some injured or dead. Lord Tywin was barely within range, and Arya shouted, “Come down here and I will geld you, you mangy old tomcat!” The proud lion just scowled and left his perch.

A very young squire, whose job it was to fetch drinking water for the fighters, asked anxiously, “Milady, would you really geld him?!”

Arya drew Needle from her belt with blinding speed and retorted, “In a heartbeat! I would give all the gold dragons I own to face that arsehole on the battlefield!”

Her soldiers were all smiling and chuckling, even those with bloody bandages, and Rufus japed, “Methinks that the wolf princess wants to fight this war all by herself!”

The wolf girl scowled and spat, “I won’t be satisfied until all the Lannisters are driven out of King’s Landing and killed!”

“And then I suppose there will be a royal wedding to celebrate Prince Aegon’s victory?” another artilleryman, daring to be familiar, asked with a wink.

Now Arya broke into a broad smile, “I promise that no one will forget our wedding feast. It will be a night to remember!”

The same soldier smirked, knowing that the crew was being unusually informal with the highborn girl, and yet she did not seem to be offended, but actually enjoyed the japes. He boldly continued, “And I suppose that you won’t forget the bedding, heh?”

The she-wolf smiled with flashing eyes and showing all her teeth, “You best hope your _prince_ survives the bedding, or the kingdom will find the Sand Snakes in command!”

At that remark, there was general raucous laughter and nodding heads, and the daring artilleryman replied “Aye, the prince must needs be strong to match your spirit, milady. We will fear no enemies with a Targaryen and a Sand Snake Stark on the Iron Throne!”

Rufus, the protective soldier, however, appeared troubled. He had compared Lady Arya in his mind to his unworldly daughter, but now had to accept that this young girl was far from the innocent child she appeared to be. _It matters not,_ he thought, _I would serve her willingly in any situation._

Finally, a soldier pointed out that night was falling, and it was now too dark to aim their war machines accurately. Arya realized that it was even too dark for the pigeons to detect anything, so she called a halt to their efforts. They had only managed to score ten confirmed kills by nightfall, but Arya’s bloodlust was satisfied, at least for the moment. She checked that all the injured were cared for, ordered the crews to inspect and repair their machines if necessary, and dismissed them, announcing that she would see that rations of wine and ale would be delivered to their campfires. Then she went to share a pleasant nameday dinner with Prince Aegon, Lord Jon, and the Sand Snakes, proudly exhibiting her wounds. Haldon examined the small cut on her cheek and said with some concern, “You may have thin scar, my lady.”

“Good!” the she-wolf replied, with a pleased expression, “All warriors should have some battle scars.”

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Queen Cersei watched her father stride angrily into the throne room, noting the large chip in the gleaming red enamel of his armor. “What happened there?” she asked.

“A souvenir of my encounter with the wolf bitch!” he growled, looking frustrated, “I cannot believe that the Stark whelp has the superior command of war machines. Her artillery has dominated ours!” He turned to his son, “Ser Jaime, would you be able to ride out with a troop of knights on a moment’s notice if asked?”

Ser Jaime Lannister nodded, “I need but to speak to my men and we will be ready when you need us.”

“Good!” Lord Tywin flashed a fiendish smile, “the next time the prince’s little whore shows her face outside our walls, you will attack and slay her! I want to mount her head on a spike and show those fools that Lannisters pay their debts!”

“I regret that I could not impale her on my sword when we searched the Trident for the brat,” Ser Jaime replied, “That would have saved us a lot of trouble.”

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Not long after the argument with Margaery’s supporters, and the Tyrells were banished to their pavilions, there was no fuss about Arya and Aegon being seen together most of the time, and no comments on their behavior, as most people assumed that they were betrothed. It was not uncommon for them to spend the evening together, often innocently studying. One evening in Aegon’s pavilion, Arya asked him when they closed their books, “Do you want to brush my hair?”

Aegon considered the unusual request and replied, “Aye”. He loosened her braids, brushed out her hair with his own brush, sniffed and fondled her tresses, and positioned some of the thick locks in front of her shoulders. Arya lowered her silks, and smiled as she hid her breasts with her hair. She stood up, nude except for her long hair covering her torso, and her smallclothes. Aegon gazed at her and realized that he was becoming aroused. He kissed her breasts through her hair, and she pulled his tunic over his head, and tugged him towards her. They kissed; pressing chest to breasts, and both became more aroused. Arya loosened his smallclothes, pushed them down, and his cock sprang out between them. She took hold of it, stroking gently but firmly. Aegon copied her actions, loosening her smallclothes and pushing them down, then cupping her mound in his hand, fondling the soft curls that he had only recently seen for the first time. Arya whispered, “Slide your fingers inside me.”

The prince moved his hand below her mound and was surprised to find that her slit was sopping wet, almost sucking in his finger. He found that he could easily slide another finger inside, and Arya began to moan, moving her center up and down on his fingers. Her mouth found his, and they feverishly started to kiss and tangle tongues. The couple fell to the bed, kissing and fondling their secret places, groaning into each other’s mouth, moving faster and faster. Suddenly, Aegon’s cock exploded, and he spilled his seed into her hand, exclaiming, “Aaaahhh!”

Immediately afterwards, Arya let out a huge sigh, her body stilled, and Aegon’s hand became even wetter, as did the sheets beneath them. They relaxed and tenderly pressed their torsos together. Their eyes opened and they blinked at each other, regaining control. Arya was the first to speak. She smiled and said, “”That was excellent!”

Aegon smiled back and says, “I agree. I am so glad you are here,” and he embraced her and kissed her softly. She wrapped her arms around him also and they cuddled for a while, exchanging tender pillow talk.

Eventually the prince realized that his cock was getting hard again, and he could not resist pressing it against Arya’s damp center, which was _so_ close to him. She returned the pressure, and they began to rub against each other. Arya’s slit became very wet again. Aegon found that he could easily slide his cock against her slit, up and down with an immense feeling of pleasure, as she moaned and slid with him. The sensation was heavenly and neither wanted to stop.

Suddenly, Aegon realized that the tip of his cock had crept inside Arya’s slippery channel, and their combined motions were taking him deeper inside of her. Arya’s eyes flew open widely and she stared at his face, then drew back a bit from him and looked down between them. She announced, “Aegon! Look! We are fucking!” Aegon looked down, and sure enough, saw that his cock had penetrated her and was moving in and out. At that moment he felt a barrier and stopped his pulsations. Arya caught his eye again and said, “That is my maidenhead! Don’t push on it!”

Aegon grit his teeth and panted, “Mayhaps I should withdraw,” and started pulling out.

Arya stopped him. “Nae! Just move the head of your cock back and forth but don’t touch my maidenhead. Aye, like that! Ah, that feels good! Just keep doing that! Ummmm!” The wolf girl was matching his rhythm with her eyes closed, biting her lower lip, and sighing.

Aegon thought that he had never seen anything as beautiful in his life as Arya’s face at that moment, but he was beginning to have the overpowering urge to push farther inside her, so he quickly said, “Arya! I am going to withdraw this minute before I take you completely!” and slid his cock out of her, oh, so inviting channel.

Arya sighed with remorse as she felt him leave her body, but replied, “Aye, you have the right of it. If we are not careful, we may do something that we would regret later.”

They remained in a sweet embrace, their sweaty torsos pressing together, their privates still damp and touching but not merging, their breathing returning to normal. The couple had both almost fallen asleep when Aegon murmured, “I don’t know how we are going to avoid making love before we wed. It will be torture.”

At that, Arya leaned back to gaze at him with a grin, “There are ways for us to enjoy ourselves without penetration. I will show you soon,” and she kissed him on the nose and, while sitting up and finding her clothes, continued with a yawn, “but not tonight. It is late and we are both sleepy. I should go home.”

Aegon walked her back to her pavilion, kissed her on her forehead, and said that he would see her at breakfast. Lady Nym was still awake, so the she-wolf told her what she and Aegon had done, and asked, “Lady Nym, do I need moon tea now?”

The Sand Snake looked very thoughtful and finally said, “I think not. But it always pays to be careful. Mayhaps you should have a cup tonight and tomorrow morning. I will brew some.” She looked over at her other apprentice, whose snoring face was planted in the open book she had been reading. Sarra had stayed up too late doing homework, also. “Sarra, sweetling! Come join us! Arya is going to have her first cup of moon tea!”

The young Sand Snake jumped up, eager to hear the story, “Really? You and Aegon were fucking? Did you like it? Won’t that cause problems?”

Arya tried to explain that they weren’t _really_ fucking, but close enough.

Nym approached the table with the steaming pot and said, “Just be careful, wolfie, you already have seen how upset some folks get when one starts talking about penetrating maidenheads.”

Arya responded, “I intend to be careful, Lady Nym. I am going to teach Aegon the ‘Lord’s Kiss’. I hope he is as good at it as Ned Dayne. I told Aegon that he should consult Ned about how to pleasure me, and he got all upset and said that he preferred to learn himself. I still think that he should talk to Ned.”

Nym just laughed, but Sarra just looked away with a dreamy expression. “Wolf girl, the more you talk about Ned Dayne, the more I want his tongue inside of me. I can’t stand it! He is making it very hard for me to seduce him!”

Arya giggled, “You can have Bokko, if you want!”

At that remark, Sarra retorted, “Ugh!” and hit the she-wolf with a pillow. Arya jumped on her friend and they wrestled for a while. It turned out that Arya wasn’t too tired, and Sarra did get her Lord’s Kiss that night.

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Arya was experimenting with her catapults; attempting to improve the distance the rock loads were thrown. She had some new elastic material imported from the Summer Islands to test, and hoped that she could reach the walls of the Red Keep. However, the stored energy generated by the torsion of twisted ropes composed of the new material was not enough to do the job. The Red Keep was just too far away. She was considering placing war machines on ships in Blackwater Bay, and attacking by water.

The wolf girl had warged into a few pigeons to assess the actual distance the rocks had traveled, when she saw a company of knights in full plate armor riding rapidly from the Red Keep to the city gate nearest to her war machines. She did not like it, and called for a squire to make haste and inform Lord Jon and Prince Aegon, and then tell Lady Nym. Ser Jaime and his knights burst through the gates and made straight for Arya and her artillerymen. A few of Golden Company’s archers were assigned to the artillery, but their arrows were fairly useless against plate armor.

Just before the Lannister mounted men were upon Arya, she was reinforced by a group of Golden Company knights, who met the threat head on. The two forces clashed until Ser Jaime realized that he was outnumbered. With a loud curse, he sounded a retreat, and his men made a quick exit, leaving a few casualties and not achieving their goal. Lord Tywin was less than pleased when he heard of the encounter, suspecting spies of giving away his plans again, and a few more innocent soldiers were tortured to death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m saving Aegon’s further erotic education for the next chapter. And Aegon has to have that embarrassing chat with Ned Dayne. There will also be more progress in terms of warfare. Winterfell has been ignored, and I have to get back to the action there, also.


	57. Arya, Aegon, and Ned

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 57 Arya, Aegon, and Ned

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As the siege continued, Arya and Aegon spent many hours sparring with their mentors, sharpening their skill with blades. Much of their practice time was performed separately and finally, one afternoon they found the time to spar together, assessing their improved proficiency. Arya, attired in her favorite butchered tunic and breeches, wanted to show the prince what she had learned about fighting with a pair of shortswords, and Aegon was now wielding a bastard sword, appropriate to his size. They traded blows for a long time, and Arya got the worst of it, with bruises on her thighs and arms, as Aegon was stronger, and if he did make contact, it hurt.

Finally, after about three quarters of an hour, Arya saw an opportunity for her scissors move and grasped Aegon’s sword close to the hilt, yanked it out of his hands, and tossed it across the yard. The young woman warrior stood back, smiling at Aegon with flashing eyes, proud of herself. Aegon nodded with approval at her new talent and moved closer for an embrace. He kissed her, and squeezed her buttocks, murmuring, “You have no idea what those breeches do to me.”

Arya grinned impishly, “On the contrary, I know _exactly_ what they do to you,” and she wiggled her bottom in his hands and pressed against him, whispering lustfully, “let’s go to your pavilion.”

When they had privacy, Arya wasted no time and pulled Aegon’s tunic over his head, and then removed her own tunic, exposing her bouncing breasts. Aegon immediately welcomed them with his hands and mouth. She enjoyed his attention for a few minutes, then gently broke the contact, and tried to make a graceful show of removing her breeches, but they were much too tight to step out of without making awkward movements, hopping from one leg to another. Aegon smiled as the girl fought to slide them off, and once they were gone and flung across the tent, he was startled to see her clothed only in the tiniest linen smallclothes he could ever imagine. They were translucent and damp, and the color of her curls was obviously seen. Aegon asked about them, and Arya replied that her favorite breeches were much too tight for regular smallclothes, so Lady Nym had them made especially for her. Aegon said, “I like them very much and find them very alluring.”

He pulled her into an embrace and they resumed the kiss that had started in the practice yard. Arya’s hands found the laces of his breeches, loosened them and pushed them down his legs, ordering him to step out of them. Clad only in smallclothes, they fell to the bed and continued kissing and exploring each other’s body with their hands. Both soon became very aroused and started grinding their centers against each other, groaning and thrusting, their torsos becoming hot and sweaty. Arya wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, bringing them even closer together, and she could feel his rock hard cock pressing insistently against her slit, denied entry only by the thin wet material of their smallclothes. Eventually the pounding of privates became all that mattered, and their vibrations became most urgent. With Arya’s head thrown back, Aegon’s mouth busy on her breasts, biting her hard little teats, and hands squeezing bottoms, they pulled each other closer for increased intimacy, and came simultaneously with frantic moans, soaking their respective smallclothes, and fell back with satisfied sighs and half-closed eyes.

Aegon loved the she-wolf’s expression when she achieved release, and leaned over to kiss her gently, whispering romantically in her ear, as she shivered from his breath, “If that was any indication, it will be so wonderful when we make love. I cannot wait to share that pleasure with you.”

Arya looked intensely at him and replied, “Aegon, we do not have to wait until we are wed to give each other much pleasure. Shall I show you how?”

The prince eyed her curiously and nodded. “Good!” she continued, “I am going to teach you ‘The Lord’s Kiss’.” They stood up and removed their sodden smallclothes. Arya lay down on the edge of the bed, spread her thighs apart, and instructed Aegon to get down on his knees between her legs. For the second time in his life, Aegon found himself staring at Arya’s secret place, and he was entranced. He was made to remember when the bold wolf child had encouraged him to explore her body as they ‘played maester’ so long ago. At that time he saw and touched a small, dry, tight slit. But now, revealed in front of him, was a pink and tempting flower, gaping and dripping, welcoming his fingers to enter and explore. As he did so, Arya moaned and guided one hand to gently slide in and out of the warm wet passage, and the other to cup and fondle her mound, paying special attention to the tiny bud at the bottom.

She pressed herself against his hands, and finally panted, “Aegon, kiss me _now!_ Kiss me right there. Put you lips on my cunny and slide your tongue inside me.” Aegon was surprised, but did as he was told, and found that he had become aroused as he kissed her. He eagerly molded his mouth to her nether lips, sucking and nibbling, and caressed the inner folds with his tongue, sliding it all around her passage. His nostrils were overwhelmed with her earthy aroma, and she tasted salty, like seawater. As Arya moaned plaintively, “Oh, Aegon! Oh, Aegon!” pressed herself against his face, dug her hands into his scalp, and wrapped her legs around his head, he realized that he was as enthusiastic to gift her with this performance as she was to receive it.

Suddenly Arya’s moans became louder and more desperate, her grip became tighter, her thrusts more demanding and powerful, and a gush of hot liquid soaked his face. She sighed again and relaxed her hold on his head, and her hands and legs fell back to the bed. He looked up at her, his mouth dripping with her juices, and once again, admired her satisfied smile and narrow, smoldering eyes. It was the most beautiful sight he could imagine.

Arya returned his gaze and blurted out, “That was excellent! The Lord’s Kiss is my _favorite_ thing!”

Her remark was not well-received by the prince, and he frowned, “I suppose _Ned Dayne_ gifted you with such pleasure countless times.”

 _Now I’ve done it!_ Arya immediately regretted saying those words, but it was too late. She admitted, “Aye, Ned _did_ give me the Lord’s Kiss, but not really _countless_ times,” as she tried to suppress a dreamy smile while reflecting on how she had pulsated to the rhythm of Ned’s skillful tongue persistently probing her folds, until finally bringing about her blissful release.

Bringing her back to the present, Aegon would not let it go. “Whose ‘Kiss’ is better? His or mine?”

“That is not a fair question!” the wolf girl protested, “That was only your _first_ time, and Ned has _lots_ of experience!” Then she realized _Oh, no, I did it again!_ Arya tried to make amends, to no avail, “I’m _sure_ you will improve as you get more practice.”

The prince was still frowning, so Arya tried another tactic. Channeling Sarra, she pulled him up on the bed and climbed into his lap, making sure that he was aware of how their naked bodies were touching by wiggling her bottom against his cock, and licked his ear while purring into it, “And, dear Aegon, I intend for _you_ to get lots of practice!” That did elicit a smile from the lad and she felt relieved. However, she felt compelled to add, “I still want you to have a talk with Ned, and learn how you can pleasure me best. Promise me that you will.”

Aegon nodded, knowing that he found it difficult to refuse this demanding girl anything.

Now Arya became brisk, and said, “You have been so patient and so nice to me! Now it is your turn, and I am going to give you ‘The Lady’s Kiss’!” She encouraged him to lie down on the bed, began stroking his cock until it stood up as straight as a tree trunk, and Aegon felt a delicious thrill as she fondled him. He remembered when they ‘played maester’ she had handled his package with curiosity, gripping his member as though she were weighing it in her hand, muttering something about a stallion. As he reflected on the past, she started kissing the shaft all along its length while squeezing the base, and then took his cock entirely within her plump lips. As she sucked and slid his member in and out of her mouth, Aegon closed his eyes and moaned, feeling like he was about to die. Her tongue, lips, and teeth all were giving him the most intense feeling of pleasure, and he found that he enjoyed observing her attention to his cock. As he watched, Aegon became aware of how her hair was coming out of her braid, and the loose tresses were draped over his hips. He also saw her pert little breasts bouncing up and down matching the motion of her head, and looking further, he could see the soft brown curls of her mound. That sight overwhelmed his imagination, and losing control, he spilled his seed, exclaiming, “Aaaaaah!”

The she-wolf let his limp cock slide out of her mouth, and moved closer to his face, licking her lips. Smiling, she asked, “Did you like that?”

“That was amazing, Arya! You were right! We do not need to have sex to pleasure each other! I love you so much!” His kissed her deeply to express his happiness, and was surprised to taste a salty flavor in her mouth, realizing that it was his seed, and was not quite comfortable with the thought.

Arya returned his passionate kiss and purred, “I am very happy too!”

The wolf girl stood up and stretched her limbs, exposing her whole lovely body to Aegon’s appreciative gaze. She blinked and smiled at him, saying, “I am ravenous, and I think it is dinnertime! Let’s go to the dining pavilion!” Looking around the tent, she muttered, “Now where are my clothes?” Of course, their garments were scattered all over the floor, so they moved around retrieving them.

Fastidious Aegon held up his smallclothes, very damp with his seed, and muttered, “I am not going to wear _these_ again!” and turned his attention to his chest, which contained fresh clothing.

Arya found her special tiny smallclothes, sopping wet with her juices, and thinking of Ned’s unique behavior, asked, “Aegon, would you like to sniff my linens?”

Aegon made a disgusted face and fussily replied, “No thank you.”

The wolf girl was curious about his reaction and stated, “But your face was just there.”

“That’s different,” he replied instantly.

“You are _weird_ ,” Arya furrowed her brow.

“No, _you_ are weird!” Aegon insisted, and changing the subject, continued, “It is nice that we are so comfortable naked together.”

“Just keep your stomach flat and don’t develop a paunch like Lord Jon,” the she-wolf japed, patting his belly, “Now, get dressed, I’m hungry!”

“Not so fast, my little wilding, we must wash first,” he said primly, looking around for towels and walking over to his chest for clean clothing. When he turned around, he was horrified to see Arya rinsing her smallclothes in his washbasin, and squeezing the water out before putting them on again.

Aegon made another face, and rinsed the basin out, exclaiming, “Ugh!” as he refilled it with fresh water. “Now come here,” he insisted, “Sometimes I think that you have an aversion to soap!” and he wiped her down first, and then himself, with damp, slightly soapy cloths, and dried their bodies with clean towels. Aegon helped her rebraid her hair, and lent her some silk robes, as he asserted that she simply could not attend dinner in her fighting clothes.

Arya gazed at the prince with affection and said, “You are so good to me,” and he gave her a big smile.

Just as the she-wolf was securing her robes, Haldon came bursting in, speaking urgently in a loud voice, “Your grace, a most interesting message has arrived, and I want to tell you…. _oh!_ ” He stopped talking as soon as he saw Arya, and once again his countenance showed embarrassment at surprising the young couple again. “Forgive me, my prince, I did not know that you had company!”

“Really, Maester Haldon, you seem to be making a habit of interrupting us,” Arya japed, “If you want to see my breasts, just ask. I don’t mind.”

Haldon just blushed and stammered, “Nae, that was not my intention. I just wanted to convey that I received a letter from Lord Stannis at the blockade, saying that he has a young ship’s master who insists that he brings important news from Essos.” Then his eyes slid over to the wolf princess, “He says that his name is Nestor and he is a friend of Lady Arya’s.”

Arya looked intrigued, “Nestor! He was an apprentice seaman on the ship that carried us to Dorne. I wonder what information he has.”

Aegon looked doubtfully at Arya, and told Haldon, “Well, tell Lord Stannis to send him to us and we shall see.”

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Eager for dinner, Arya and Aegon entered the dining pavilion hand in hand and smiling. Members of Golden Company showed their approval on their faces, as they welcomed back their ‘wolf princess’ and perceived good luck charm. Those that knew her well had been fond of her when she was just a precocious child, and now that she had become a lovely maiden, were very pleased. Older campaigners commented, not for the first time, on the couple’s resemblance to Rhaegar and Lyanna. One called out as they took their seats, “When is the wedding?”

Before Aegon could respond, Arya shot back, “As soon as Queen Cersei’s head is on a spike!” and there were shouts of approval.

Sarra took one look at their glowing and flushed faces and grinned, “I know what _you_ were doing!”

Arya replied curiously, “Is it really that obvious?”

Lady Nym responded with a smirk, “Aye! No one would have any doubt that you have been kissing and mayhaps _other_ activities.”

Sarra winked at Aegon and drawled, “Cousin Aegon, did you have fun _kissing?_ ”

Aegon blushed at her implication, as he still embarrassed easily, while Lady Nym laughed. Lord Jon, however, looked suspicious and asked, “Are our two amateur maesters getting in trouble _again?!_ ”

Lady Nym chuckled, “Not to worry, my lord. These two are as inquisitive as ever, but be assured, no bastards will result from their behavior. They will still be unsullied when they wed.”

Lord Jon snorted at the idea of the adventurous youths being ‘innocents’ and replied, “I hope you are right and we have nothing to worry about.”

“Have no fear, Jon; these three young people know far more about coupling than you do. In fact, I am now thinking that I have been remiss in _your_ education. Should we attend to it after dinner?” the Sand Snake teased.

The stern lord turned bright red and choked out, “Nymeria! I am not comfortable with that kind of talk! Cannot we eat dinner in peace?!”

The teenagers giggled and rolled their eyes, enjoying the sight of their dignified leader so flustered by their mentor, and Lady Nym smiled, “And that, dear Jon, is why we speak thusly. Seeing you so embarrassed is so much fun!”

Lord Jon stared pointedly first at Sarra, then Arya, and finally Nym, and declared, “If I may rephrase a comment by Lord Stark, I am more afraid of the devious smiles of you ladies than a knight in plate armor and a greatsword!”

“I would never have guessed that we were so formidable, my lord,” the Sand Snake replied with a wink, and the commander just grunted and addressed his dinner again.

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A messenger came to Ned Dayne’s tent and directed him to attend the prince in his private pavilion. The young Dornishman entered with some hesitation, and saw Prince Aegon sitting at his table with a flagon of wine and two goblets. The prince had already been drinking from one of them.

Aegon motioned to the other chair and said stiffly, “Lord Dayne, thank you for coming, please join me and have a cup of this fine Arbor Gold.”

The other youth replied, “I am yours to command, your grace, and please call me Ned.”

The prince began slowly and carefully, and his expression was pained, “I asked you here because my lady insists that I learn how to please her, and she advises me that you have this knowledge. I respectfully request that you share this information with me. I beg you to speak frankly.” When he was done with what must have been a difficult speech, he took a deep breath and another long sip of wine.

Ned also took a deep breath and replied, “For true, your grace? Do you really want me to relate the intimate details?”

Aegon nodded with a grimace, “Aye, it seems to be necessary. And when we are in private, you may call me Aegon.”

Lord Dayne nodded and started recounting how Arya had enjoyed his touch when he opened her braids and brushed out her hair, and they both found it arousing when he played with her tresses and a hairbrush. Aegon nodded in understanding.

Then he gulped and described how he addressed her breasts, how and where he fondled, squeezed, and licked them, and how he nipped her teats. Aegon showed more interest, and both lads drank more wine. After a deep breath, he listed her erogenous zones, and the usual order that he attended to them, heightening her sensitivity as she slowly approached satisfaction. Aegon realized that he had not been aware of all her sensitive places, and took some mental notes.

Ned hesitated, took another sip of wine, and described his attention to her privates, where he touched her, how much pressure she liked on several locations, how many fingers to probe with and how fast to stroke her folds, and how he caressed her mound and nub. Both lads were sweating by now, and needed more wine.

Finally he described his technique with ‘The Lord’s Kiss’, and Aegon listened attentively as Ned explained all that he did with his lips and tongue, and how the combination of his actions applied with a certain rhythm could bring about her explosive release. Aegon’s eyes were closed and Ned took another long sip of wine, releasing a deep breath when he was done.

Ned suggested that if Arya demanded that he delve deeper, he should place a pillow under her arse to raise it higher, and even throw her legs over his shoulders, while squeezing her buttocks and pinching her teats almost roughly, and she would surely achieve a powerful orgasm.

The prince opened his eyes and gazed at Ned warily, “You have certainly made a careful study of all this.”

Lord Dayne blushed and murmured that he was only trying to please the demanding wolf girl. He had not been able to refuse her anything she wanted.

Aegon replied, “Aye, now _that_ I understand.” He sighed and said, “Thank you, Ned, you have been most helpful,” fingering his goblet, but did not drink anymore as he was becoming quite woozy.

The Dornish lad gathered his courage, some of it based on the amount of wine in his belly, and said, “Excuse my impertinence, Aegon, but you are one lucky bastard.”

“Lady Arya is a difficult girl, but well worth the effort,” the prince responded, but then added, “Ned, if you envy our relationship so much, I suggest that you court my cousin Sarra. Arya says that she favors you, and would be delighted if you turned your attention to her. Since you obviously still have a desire for a beautiful, willful, demanding girl, Sarra is not unlike the she-wolf.”

Lord Dayne attempted to stand up, but fell back into his chair with a belch. Aegon laughed, and Ned’s words were slurred, “I have previously rebuffed Sarra, but mayhaps you have the right of it. If she still seems interested in me, I may respond to her. Aegon, I can’t get up!”

The prince called for Ser Rolly to escort the wobbly boy back to his pavilion, and both lads had splitting headaches the next day.

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As the siege dragged on, Lord Jon began to realize that the Lannisters cared not that the city dwellers were starving as long as they themselves had food and limited supplies for their soldiers. Young Tommen was crowned king, but Queen Regent Cersei and Lord Tywin as Hand were obviously the rulers. The Lannisters even had the audacity to have a wasteful celebratory coronation feast. The High Septon had made no attempt to challenge the regime. Connington was determined to see if he could bring the situation to a head, and after consulting a few leaders, called a meeting of the captains of the combined armies.

Lord Jon told the assembled leaders that the siege was presently a stalemate, but the Lannisters were contained, as King’s Landing was surrounded and outnumbered by the combined armies of Golden Company, the lords of the Crownlands, and the armies of Dorne and the Stormlands. Lord Renly’s Stormlands forces kept growing as more Houses came over to his side. Lord Stannis Baratheon’s fleet held an effective blockade of Breakwater Bay, and no supplies or reinforcements could get through.

General Obara and Lord Connington proposed a sortie to place more pressure on the Lannisters. The war machines would target three of the city’s gates and the parapets above them, attempting to damage the gates themselves and clear the walls of defenders. Allied soldiers would move in with battering rams, protected from arrows, rocks, and hot oil by the catapults, trebuchets, and Balaq’s archers. Ideally, they would force open the gates and create a clear path to the Red Keep and a direct confrontation with the Lannister army. Then they would have to deal with the formidable defenses of the Red Keep itself. The leaders discussed the plan and considered when to implement it, as it would require the cooperation of all the combined forces. Lord Jon wanted to get started as soon as possible.

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Aegon and Arya were in the prince’s pavilion when two soldiers, vassals of Lord Stannis Baratheon, escorted a young seaman to the Targaryen encampment from the blockade. Arya recognized the lad first, and impulsively rushed to his arms, shouting, “Nestor!”

The delighted sailor embraced her and kissed her on the lips before he realized that he was also in the presence of the prince, her betrothed. Nestor quickly broke off his embrace and kiss, which the wolf girl had enthusiastically returned, and hurriedly apologized, “I beg your pardon, your grace, Lady Arya and I are old friends.”

“So I surmise,” the prince replied, rolling his eyes, as Arya reluctantly disentangled herself from the welcome visitor, “I suppose you are the young man that she spent countless hours with alone in the crow’s nest at night.”

The boy blushed and tried to stammer a reply, but the ingenuous she-wolf volunteered, “Nestor taught me much seamanship in that crow’s nest!”

“I’ll wager he did,” Aegon muttered darkly, and Nestor looked very uncomfortable, although Arya appeared completely unruffled. The prince fixed the sailor with a stern expression, “I hope that your request to visit us involved more than an opportunity to fondle the wolf girl again. What matter brings you here?”

Poor Nestor could not stop blushing, “No, your grace! I came because I wanted to confirm the rumors that I am sure have reached your ears concerning your aunt, Queen Daenerys Targaryen.”

Now the prince shed his haughty manner and looked intrigued, “I have heard reports that she is alive in Essos and has dragons. These rumors seem farfetched.”

“Nae, your grace!” Nestor exclaimed, “They are true! I have seen three dragons in the sky myself! I travel the Narrow Sea, and when I was last on the docks of Pentos, just a few weeks ago, I saw the dragons flying overhead, and from a distance I saw the dragon queen negotiating with ships’ captains for passage of her army to Westeros!”

Aegon was very excited, “We must tell Lord Jon the news! Come with me, and you must repeat your story. Then we must find you some food and drink after your hasty journey, and I suppose that you and Lady Arya would like to catch up. But no more crow’s nest activity, heh?” Nestor blushed again, but Arya just grinned.

On the way to see Lord Connington, Aegon muttered to his impetuous young warrior woman, “I suppose that I am going to meet boys you have kissed everywhere we go in Westeros?”

“Mayhaps, but I did not kiss _all_ that many boys,” she replied innocently.

“You could have fooled me,” the prince rolled his eyes.

“But Aegon,” Arya smirked, “look how talking to the boys I have kissed has made things better for you!”

Now Aegon just shook his head, thinking, _she is referring to my conversation with Ned Dayne!_ and he replied, “Let’s just drop this topic. Go to your sailor, he has been waiting to talk to you. You Sand Snakes make me crazy!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will the battle begin soon? Will Daenerys join the party? We shall see….
> 
> One thing is certain, Aegon has to put into practice Ned’s suggestions. That should be interesting.


	58. Battle for the City

"The Honored Guest” Chapter 58 Battle for the City

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Previously:

Aegon and Arya were in the prince’s pavilion when two soldiers, vassals of Lord Stannis Baratheon, escorted a young seaman to the Targaryen encampment from the blockade. Arya recognized the lad first, and impulsively rushed to his arms, shouting, “Nestor!”

The delighted sailor eagerly embraced and kissed her on the lips before he realized that he was also in the presence of the prince, her betrothed. Nestor quickly broke off his intimate greeting, which the wolf girl had enthusiastically returned, and hurriedly apologized, “I beg your pardon, your grace, Lady Arya and I are old friends.”

“So I surmise,” the prince replied, rolling his eyes, as Arya reluctantly disentangled herself from the welcome visitor.

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Nestor planned to remain in the camp overnight to visit with his shipboard friends. After the midday meal, Aegon was sequestered with Lord Jon and the other leaders, discussing Daenerys and her dragons. Nestor came to Arya’s empty pavilion, and saw his gift of scrimshaw displayed on her chest. He pushed back his sleeve to reveal that he had her leather braid binding tied around his wrist. Standing behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzled her soft chestnut hair which she had left loose in anticipation of his visit, and murmured, “I missed you so much. You were never far from my mind.” He moved his hands to fondle her breasts, adding, “You certainly have grown since I last saw you,” and could not resist kissing the back of her neck through her hair and pinching her teats.

Arya turned around in his arms and replied, staring at him with wide, grey eyes, “Aye, I have flowered since our journey together and my body has changed.”

“So I noticed,” he responded with lust in his voice, and dipped his head to kiss her on the lips. Arya eagerly responded, and they tangled tongues for a while, moaning quietly, and moving their hands over each other’s torso. Nestor cupped the curves of her buttocks, and said, “I wish you had been wearing your breeches when I arrived. I used to love watching you spar in them.”

“I still wear them, and they still cause a reaction,” she impishly replied.

“You are a distraction to any man, wolf princess,” and he resumed kissing her, slowly and tenderly, and returned one hand to caress her breast again.

They were thus intertwined and immersed in a passionate, wet kiss when Sarra walked in. “Greetings, Nestor! I heard that you were in camp,” she loudly announced, as the couple quickly moved apart, wiping their mouths and blushing, “I see that you are getting the royal welcome! Do you have a kiss for me also?” she added, moving closer to him. The young sailor was surprised when she embraced him and brazenly pulled him in for a deep kiss, pressing her breasts firmly against his chest and squeezing his arse. When she released him, Nestor was breathing heavily and staring wide-eyed at the lovely girl. Arya giggled, and Sarra smirked, “I often wondered why you _never_ attempted to kiss me on the ship. We might have had some fun. The salt air made me _very_ horny!”

Nestor shook his head to clear his mind and replied, “Captain Salladhar was very firm in warning the crew that accosting you ladies was forbidden, as our payment depended on your safe passage. I never considered the possibility.”

“Oh, I am _sure_ we could have found a way to meet privately, sailor,” Sarra said slyly and winked at him. “Well, consider that a lost opportunity, Nestor, I would have given you some priceless memories,” the apprentice Sand Snake teased, and sighed, “I cannot give you that attention now, for I am considering giving my heart and body to another.”

The young man was completely out of his element. He had spent most of his life at sea solely with men, and the machinations of cunning women were too much for his simple worldview. “”I thank you for the thought, Sarra, but I really don’t need two beautiful women haunting my dreams.”

Sarra looked over at Arya, “Ah, so the she-wolf invades you lonely nights? No wonder you were trying to swallow her tongue when I entered.” Arya giggled again. “I don’t mind, and will keep your secret, as I understand your passion,” the bold girl continued, “but I caution you about showing Arya affection when Prince Aegon is present. He has become most jealous of her relationships.”

“I certainly will not, Sarra! I do plan on keeping my head on my shoulders!” he sputtered in reply.

“Oh, I don’t think he would separate you from your head for kissing Arya,” Sarra laughed, “He might take a few fingers, mayhaps.”

The boy looked alarmed and said, “I must return to my ship soon. I shall probably leave tomorrow morning.”

Arya looked disappointed and told him, “You know what is best, but I am glad you came,” and gave him one more hug.

They met Prince Aegon, Lord John, and Lady Nym for dinner, reminisced about the voyage, and traded stories about their lives since parting at Sunspear. Nestor was now the ‘master’ of _The Red Cloud_ , and was in charge of the cargo and financial matters. His next step would be a captaincy, and he was excited to attain that promotion. Arya said that when she and Aegon planned to visit the Free Cities, they would inquire about sailing with him.

Aegon did not look very enthusiastic, but nodded in agreement. The prince had observed Nestor and Arya when they had entered the pavilion after she led him on a tour of the encampment. Their lips were plump and their cheeks rosy, and Nestor had avoided eye contact with Aegon. The prince suspected that they had been kissing, and his suspicions were confirmed when he saw Sarra grinning when she eyed them.

Aegon arranged for a pallet to be set up for Nestor in his own pavilion for the young sailor’s overnight stay, leaving it unsaid that he wanted to keep an eye on him. The prince suspected that if the lad had the urge for a final tryst with the wolf girl, the Sand Snakes would actually encourage and help him. Hapless Aegon thought, _before we are wed, I am going to have a serious talk about her behavior! She will need to act more demure as my wife!_

Nestor left the next day with Lord Baratheon’s vassals, after thanking Prince Aegon for his hospitality, bidding farewell to the Sand Snakes, and giving Arya a chaste parting embrace, trying to keep sorrow from his expression. He steeled himself and addressed the prince, “I wish you good fortune, your grace, and may your wedding to Lady Arya be a delightful occasion.”

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The prince knew that he would have to put Ned’s advice to use soon, as he was aware that Arya was expecting it. After another night of doing homework together in his pavilion, Arya slammed her last book shut, and looked at him pointedly. She stood up and stretched, and let her silk robe drop to the floor, revealing that she was clad only in her tiny linen smallclothes. The wolf girl smiled and said, “I didn’t want to waste any time undressing. I know you like this outfit,” as she stared at the tenting in his breeches.

Aegon threw off his tunic and stepped out of his breeches, as he rummaged through his mental notes, trying to remember what to do. He embraced her and they started kissing, stroking each other’s body. When they fell to the bed, Aegon started to fondle and kiss her most sensitive areas, paying particular attention to the ones that Ned had mentioned. Arya moaned with delight, and responded by becoming aroused very quickly, as he noticed that her skin became pink and he could feel her increased warmth, and when he went to slip two fingers into her slit, it was wet and hot and clutched his digits. Aegon realized that his cock was swollen, stiff, and rigid, and pressed against her hip.

Arya looked at him and said impatiently, “Lie back, I am going to give you the Lady’s Kiss.” She climbed over his center, and grasped and gobbled up his member. She moved her bottom so that it was close to Aegon’s hands, and he fondled her arse and moved his fingers inside her. Then the she-wolf surprised him by throwing her leg over his torso, which situated her dripping slit directly over his face. As he stared, she released his cock for a moment and panted, “Aegon, kiss me! Kiss me now!” He lifted his mouth and proceeded to give her the Lord’s Kiss, remembering Ned’s advice.

The girl exclaimed, “Oh! Oh!” as she pressed against him and resumed her attention to his cock. They both became totally absorbed in giving and receiving pleasure until their actions became extremely urgent and loud, finally resulting in simultaneous intense, sloppy orgasms. Arya reversed her position and came up to face Aegon, her face shining and happy, “That was excellent! You _did_ listen to Ned! I am so pleased! What about you, did you enjoy that?”

Aegon returned her smile and replied, “Aye, I found that giving _you_ the Lord’s Kiss as you are giving _me_ the Lady’s Kiss to be even more stimulating, and our release was more passionate. My desire for you has even become more insistent,” and he began to kiss and fondle her breasts for a few moments, and then helped her loosen her braids and brush out her hair. They cuddled for a while as he stroked her tresses and she caressed his thighs, becoming delighted when she felt his cock become hard again.

With a grin, she turned around and sucked his member into her mouth, pressing her center on his face one more time, and Aegon realized that they were kissing again, and put his full attention into the act. Within minutes, they were groaning and their bodies were pulsating, and when they eventually came for a second time, it was exquisitely unbearable and exhausting.

They were both overcome with shortness of breath, and when Aegon found his voice, gasped, “Arya, that was amazing, although it drained all my energy! I feel weak! Do you have a name for that position?” assuming that it had been part of Lady Nym’s and Sarra’s education.

The limbs of the she-wolf were stretched out on the bed, her privates were indecently on full display, her eyes were closed, and she was still incoherent. Before her thoughts became organized, she blurted out, “Ned and I called it ‘the couple’s kiss’, and we would do it until we were too fatigued to move! Sarra and I do it when one of us is too tense to fall asleep. It is a great way to relieve stress.”

Aegon quietly said, “I see,” and lay on the bed brooding, fingering her tresses.

 _Oh, no, my impulsive mouth got me into trouble again!_ Arya thought, and trying not to panic, gaily said, “But don’t worry, Aegon! You are the only boy I am going to do it with from now on, and we can do it whenever we want!” Her statement did not seem to mollify the prince, and they soon dressed and he walked her home.

\------------------------------------------

A troubled Prince Aegon consulted his cousin Lady Nym about his concerns with the wolf girl’s impetuous nature. Considering that as Arya’s mentor and a grown-up, he hoped that she could explain her behavior. He poured out his anxieties about Arya’s past connections to other boys, and the image of the naked bodies of Arya and Ned writhing in the couple’s kiss was stamped painfully in his mind.

Nym was unsmiling and thoughtful. “Do you enjoy the knowledge that she has brought to your bed?”

“Aye!”

“Do you love her?”

“Aye!”

“Do you believe she loves you?”

“Of that I am not sure. Sometimes I think that she would find it easy to throw me over for Ned Dayne, or even Nestor the sailor.”

“Look at it this way – If a man of Westeros behaved as she has, it would be called ‘sowing his wild oats’ and no one would think twice about it. Arya has explored her sexuality to make her relationship with you as rewarding as possible, if you can accept that as the truth. However, as Maester Johnson discussed in _The Human Sexual Response_ , most likely she has a very high libido, and you will have to work hard to keep her satisfied. Do you think you are up for it?”

“I hope so,” the prince replied, but looked doubtful.

The Sand Snake could not help but jape, “Well, if you can’t do it alone, you can always invite Ned Dayne to help you.” She smiled and chuckled at her words.

“Cousin Nymeria, that is _not_ funny!” the forlorn boy protested.

“In any case, I do not think that she will do any more experimenting, and you can be assured that she only wants you in her bed,” Lady Nym concluded.

With a sigh, Aegon nodded, “I hope you are right.”

\------------------------------------------

The next evening that they found themselves studying together in Aegon’s pavilion, the prince decided to take charge. He closed their books with a determined countenance, took Arya’s hand and led her to his bed, carefully undressed her, and began to kiss and fondle her. When it was obvious that she was aroused and expecting more, he undressed himself and joined her on the bed, continuing to caress and kiss her erogenous zones. Arya began to moan and pant and Aegon stopped to put a pillow under her buttocks. Then he dropped to his knees and began to give her a deliberate and passionate Lord’s Kiss, but suddenly stopped as she was about to come.

Aegon kept her on the edge of release, but would not let her go over, and she began to beg for relief. He ignored her request for satisfaction and stood up. Maintaining eye contact with the wolf girl, he slipped his cock into her warm and wet channel, sliding it in and out carefully, moving it just slow enough and deep enough to keep both of them almost painfully stimulated. Then he withdrew and got on his knees again, and resumed giving her the urgent Lord’s Kiss he had previously begun, finally bringing her to an intense, energy-draining orgasm. The young Sand Snake sighed with pleasure, and when she opened her eyes, she saw Aegon gazing at her with a most serious expression. With a solemn voice he said, “Arya, I am _yours_ , and you are _mine!_ I don’t want you to even _think_ about another man’s tongue, hands, or cock inside of you!”

Arya was intrigued with this new assertive Aegon, and thought that it had the possibility for enhancing their bedroom pleasure. She chirped in a high-pitched voice, “Aye, master, your wish is my command! Do with me what you will!”

The prince laughed and shook his head, “That is not really what I expected, but I suppose that works. I will try to love you enough so that you will not need to dwell on memories of Ned Dayne’s mouth between your thighs!”

The gears of the she-wolf’s mind were already turning, thinking of a seduction practice Lady Nym called ‘role play’ – _I can surprise him in his bed in my warrior woman outfit, accost him, and let him dominate and undress me, fondling me as he searches for weapons! Mayhaps I can get the robes of a Volantis slave girl and I can pretend to be a courtesan! I have to talk to Lady Nym about this!_

She realized that he had gotten up off of his knees and was standing directly in front of her, his engorged and throbbing cock pointed at her face, and he forcefully said, “You may give me the Lady’s Kiss now!”

“Of course, your grace, I am delighted to service you,” she purred, taking his member gently into her hand, stroking it with a devoted look on her face, and while still capturing his gaze with her wide grey eyes, she pulled it into her mouth with a great sigh, and using all the skill Sarra had taught her, started sucking on it while clutching the base with one hand and squeezing the cleft of his arse with the other. To his great embarrassment, Aegon came almost immediately, spilling his seed into her mouth, and released a loud and astonished exclamation of pleasure.

She let his limp and dripping cock slip out and wiped her smiling mouth with the back of her hand, as he looked down at her and said with a red face, “I had expected to last longer, but seemed not to have any control.”

Arya gave him a wicked smirk, “I called you ‘master’, but you see that I still have much power over _you!_ ”

“I will not forget that, my lady,” and dropped to his knees again, gifting her with another Lord’s Kiss, this time at her preferred tempo, and brought her to a sweet, lingering orgasm that left her utterly contented and ready for a deep sleep. Of course, the prince had to walk her back to her pavilion before she could retire, and when Sarra saw her satiated expression, said with a lust-filled voice, “Oh my, I envy you. Whatever Aegon did, would you let him do it to me?”

“Nae, he is mine, and I won’t share him,” Arya replied with a chuckle, as she pulled her nightgown over her head, “however, if you are so vexed, go seduce Ned Dayne and mayhaps he will satisfy your needs.”

Sarra narrowed her eyes, leaned over the she-wolf as she settled into the bed, and responded, “He will not respond to my advances _yet_ , and I tell you now that you are not going to get any sleep immediately!” taking hold of Arya’s hand and placing it in a very private area, which was obviously damp and begging for attention.

Ironically, as Lady Nym brooded over Lord Connington and Sarra over Ned Dayne, the two girls had become unintentionally celibate and took out their frustrations in the practice yard. Their Dornish sparring partners suffered major bruising, and the more perceptive ones thought, _mayhaps if these Sand Snakes pursued some ‘sword and sheath’ action, they would not inflict so much pain while training!_

\------------------------------------------

The plans for attacking King’s Landing devised by Lord Connington and General Obara were eventually put into effect. Each individual army of the alliance had been assigned roles and positions at three locations around the city, focused on the three main gates. Archers were positioned to harass the soldiers on the parapets above the gates, to prevent them from inflicting damage on the battering ram divisions.

Arya’s battery of war machines was assigned to weaken and hopefully destroy the Gate of the Gods, which was the main city gate and closest to the kingsroad. The troop of artillerymen that she directly commanded, and included her ‘protector’ Rufus, had jestingly starting calling themselves ‘Bloody Bessie’s Boys’, and were proud of their accuracy with their weapons. Prince Aegon, who had worked with Arya as she perfected her techniques, commanded the battery assigned to the King’s Gate, closer to the Red Keep. A third battery attacked the Dragon Gate, furthest from the Red Keep and the most difficult to defend.

At the appointed time, the divisions took their positions, and the artillerymen started their barrage, bombarding the wooden gates with volley after volley of rocks. Arrows from the archers and rocks from the catapults and trebuchets were directed at the parapets, and the battering rams were sent in. Lord Jon, Lord Renly, and General Obara observed the progress of the attack, and eventually had to conclude that the gates were of a stout construction, and were successfully resisting the assault. With grim expressions, they sounded the retreat to prevent excessive casualties.

The allied armies attacked for several days in succession, making little progress, and the leaders realized that they were still at a stalemate. Arya suggested casting loads of flaming oil-soaked wood at the gates, but the Lannister soldiers soon learned to keep the gates wet and tossed water over them constantly. The armies were at an impasse.

Lord Jon, General Obara, and the other leaders reconsidered their strategy, and decided to concentrate their effort on only one of the gates and use the attacks on the other two as diversions. The Lannisters knew that Arya’s battery was the most accurate and defended her assaults more carefully, and she would pretend to increase the ferocity of her unit’s attacks. The battery assigned to the Dragon Gate would keep up its usual barrage, and the main thrust would be on the King’s Gate, where Prince Aegon commanded the artillery. His battery would be secretly reinforced by catapults and trebuchets removed from the other artillery groups, and extra battering ram units would be hidden nearby in preparation to be deployed at a moment’s notice.

When all was ready, Arya stepped up her barrage of the Gate of the Gods, and the massive pounding the wooden gates received caused the Lannisters to send a large force to defend it in case it was destroyed. As soon as the defending force was in place, Aegon’s enlarged battery immediately assailed the smaller King’s Gate and it soon began to weaken. Battering ram units rushed to the site and started hammering the damaged gates, and although they were taking casualties, finally the gate burst asunder and foot soldiers rushed through to engage the defending troops. Fighting at last was occurring _within_ the city walls!

Tywin Lannister immediately ordered troops to be diverted from the other gates to fight at the breech, and the other batteries became more effective in damaging them. Connington, Obara, and Renly were leading their forces into the city, and Arya was excited to join the invasion, but she knew that she had to stay at her post. The Lannister forces were spread too thin, and soon all the gates were breeched and Targaryen troops could enter the city from three points. Lady Nym and Sarra rode up with Arya’s sand steed and called to her, “Let’s go, wolf girl!”

Arya turned to Rufus and told him, “You are in charge now! My sword is eager to meet the queen’s neck!” To the soldier’s astonishment, she dropped her silk robes, revealing her warrior woman armor, and she mounted Vhagar and checked her weapons, which were arrayed around the saddle. She nodded to her mentor, “I am ready,” and the Sand Snakes rode off to join a troop of Dornish soldiers heading for the Gate of the Gods.

The fighting within the city was intense, and the Lannister forces were at a disadvantage as they were fewer in number and were being attacked on three fronts. Ser Jaime, seeing his losses mounting, ordered the retreat, and the surviving knights and soldiers withdrew into the walls of the Red Keep, the impregnable royal castle within the city. The frustrated fighters of the allied armies were forced to draw back because they were now within range of Lannister archers and artillery on the battlements of the castle, and their own artillery were too far away to effectively defend them. Leaving a substantial force within the city walls, the leaders returned to their encampment to assess the butcher’s bill and to plot their next step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Coming soon: How to conquer an impregnable castle.


	59. Winterfell Interlude

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may want to reread Chapter 50, ‘Winterfell’ again, which was first uploaded in the middle of February. I had left those delightful young people at Catelyn’s feast, and the action had become very interesting.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 59 Winterfell Interlude

\--------------------------------------------

Previously:

Lyanna continued, “Let’s return to the Great Hall now. I want you to dance with Meera and tell her how nice she looks, but don’t get obnoxious. And tell that idiot Bran to give her some attention, too. You are clever, see if you can help us get them together. Boys can be so thickheaded.”

Theon stared at her, “You have no reservations about ordering me around, do you?”

Lyanna smiled, “Of course not. We seem to have an understanding, even if you have not admitted that you love me yet. And if I ordered you to do something that you really didn’t want to do, I expect that you would tell me so.”

Theon shook his head, “Lady Lyanna, you scare me. I fear that you are smarter than me.”

Lyanna laughed at his pained expression, “That is the most intelligent thing you have ever said!” Seizing his hand, she continued, “Let’s go back! I am having so much fun!”

________________________

Lyanna had given Theon her orders, and to his surprise, he was pleased to comply. The irreverent young man grinned, thinking, _The she-bear is giving me leave to be snarky!_ Returning to the Great Hall, he observed the young people in question. Bran and Jojen were engaged in a casual conversation and Meera was listlessly sitting on other side of her brother, moving her goblet of watered wine from one hand to the other, obviously bored and watching the dancers. Standing behind them, he lightly tossed a piece of dinner roll at Bran’s head, catching his attention. Silently, he motioned to Bran to come to him. Bran excused himself and went to the squid prince, who glared at him, and spat, “What in the Seven Hells are you doing?! This is your chance to dance with Meera and get better acquainted! Are you so stupid that you can’t see that she is waiting for you to make a move?!”

The flustered boy replied, “But, do you really think she wants to dance with me?”

Theon snorted, “You idiot, Lyanna told me that she is quietly crushing on you and would be pleased if you would kiss her! Why are you wasting your time?! Don’t you want to kiss her?!”

Bran blushed, “Since you put it that way, I guess so.”

“Well met! Here is what we are going to do,” Theon continued enthusiastically, “I will dance with her first and try to charm her. Then you will cut in and confess that you think she is beautiful and like her a lot. Then take her to the Godswood see what happens.” He slapped the boy on the back, “This could be your lucky night!”

The younger Stark brother returned to his seat and Theon approached Meera, bowing and smiling, inviting her to dance, adding with a grin that he promised not to act inappropriately. Meera had been so bored that she hurried to get up and let him escort her to the dance floor. The crannogwoman was a graceful dancer and felt light in his arms, and Theon was pleased. As they danced, Theon told her that she looked very pretty in her gown and that Sansa’s makeup complimented her sweet features. Trying his best to keep a suggestive tone from his voice, he told her, “Winterfell is blessed with so many attractive maidens, and you are certainly one of them. It may seem that I tease you a lot, but be assured that I really admire you.”

To his surprise, Meera blushed prettily, but did not lose her composure or get angry. Instead she smiled and replied, “Thank you for the compliments, Theon, I know you can be cheeky, but my friend Lyanna says it is all in good fun and I trust her, so I really don’t mind your behavior. Lyanna seems to enjoy your nature.” She appeared to be relaxed, and Theon liked dancing with the lithe and agile girl, and they made a pretty picture on the dance floor.

Before the dance was over, Bran approached and said that he was cutting in, as he had a desire to speak to Meera. Theon released the girl, bowed and kissed her hand, muttered, “My lady,” and backed away. Bran took the surprised maiden in his arms, and although he wasn’t as elegant a dancer as Theon, he did not step on her feet, and they moved around the dance floor without any faux pas. As they danced, Bran gained confidence and improved, realizing that he was enjoying the warm, soft feeling of Meera in his arms. He saw that Meera was actually smiling at him, her brown eyes sparkling and her demure face very attractive.

Bran found his voice, and said, “Lady Meera, I felt jealous when I saw you dancing with flirtatious Theon, and had to interfere. I hope you are not angry.”

Meera whispered shyly, with a faint blush on her cheeks, “I am pleased that you wanted to dance with me. I have been waiting and waiting, and did not know what you thought.”

The younger wolf took courage and replied, “I like you a lot, but have not had the nerve to tell you. I was afraid that you would reject me.”

The girl laughed lightly, “Lyanna is so right about boys! You have completely missed my signals! I thought it was obvious that I liked you too.” The dance ended, and they clapped for the musicians. Bran took a deep breath and blurted, “Would you like to take a stroll in the Godswood?” Meera nodded and took his hand and they walked out of the Hall, not aware of the stares from his lady mother and the smiles on Robb’s and Sansa’s faces, among others.

Lyanna was dancing with Artos, but caught Theon’s eye and nodded with a fetching smile. Theon realized that her approval made him proud, and he thought, _that little urchin is really invading my mind!_

As Bran and Meera entered the Godswood, the boy, timidly at first, placed his arm around her narrow waist, and when she leaned into him, he held her tighter. They found a private place and Meera faced him with an expectant expression. Bran screwed up his courage, reminding himself of Theon’s words, closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss her. Meera responded eagerly, and they pressed their lips together, sharing a chaste kiss. They embraced and enjoyed the warmth of holding each other’s body closely. Although Meera had a few more namedays than Bran, he was almost as tall as her, and they were physically well-matched. Meera leaned against a tree, and they remained in a sweet embrace, nibbling at each other’s lips, face, and neck for several minutes, humming with pleasure. Finally they separated and looked at each other with glowing eyes, panting slightly. Meera touched her lips with her hand and said, “That was wonderful, Bran!”

Bran nodded, “I agree! I have never felt so happy! I am so glad that you came to Winterfell, Meera!”

Meera took his hand and said, “Let’s go back to the Great Hall. Suddenly I am very hungry! I wager that Jojen is wondering where we have gone!”

“I wonder more about my lady mother, if she saw us leave,” Bran said with some nervousness in his voice.

“I wouldn’t worry about your mother,” Meera smiled at him, “I don’t think she is distressed at all.”

Bran was not sure how she could be so confident, but he said nothing and cheerfully walked back with her, as they swung their joined arms with big smiles on their faces.

________________________

Previously:

After threatening him, Lyanna watched Ramsey leave her, and did not return her blade to its sheath until he was out of sight. An admiring Artos Flint approached and requested to continue the interrupted waltz. The she-bear observed that the mountain boy possessed an outdoorsy nature similar to hers, and smiled sweetly at him and offered her hand, and Artos became enthralled with another Northern lass.

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Lyanna danced with Artos, and noticed that he was casting an admiring glance at her. He danced gracefully with her, murmuring compliments about her lovely wavy hair and nice gown. She thought he was handsome, although not as rugged as a mountain boy could be, and decided on the spot that she would kiss him and give him some pleasant memories. When the dance ended and they clapped for the musicians, Lyanna stroked his arm, seized his hand, and suggested they go for a walk in the Godswood. The naïve boy’s eyes went wide as he realized what she was implying, and nodded his head, at a loss for words.

The she-wolf enjoyed being the intrepid one of the pair, and when they found a private spot under a pine tree with low branches, she quickly embraced Artos and kissed him forcefully. He responded with a bit of hesitation at the brash action of the forward female, and timidly returned the kiss. His lips were slightly parted as he tried to breathe and she plunged her tongue into his mouth, exploring and stroking. The surprised boy actually moaned like an inexperienced maiden at the delightful pressure of her mouth and torso on his body, and Lyanna became even more daring, molesting his body with her hands, pressing her impressive bosom against his chest, and silently demanding more response from his tongue. Artos was overwhelmed with this new sensation of physical pleasure and was losing control as Lyanna murmured, “Embrace me, you fool!” and he immediately did so, realizing how delightfully warm, soft, and curvaceous the young girl’s body felt in his arms.

Lyanna squeezed him tighter and their intense kiss became a noisy, wet, and sloppy exchange of saliva, more intimate and personal than anything that Artos had ever experienced. He started to lose consciousness, his arms became weak, and as he went limp in her embrace, the last feeling he had was Lyanna stroking his private area through his breeches, and crowing, “Aha! You _are_ a man! That is a nice tree growing from your groin!”

When Artos’ mind cleared, he was lying on the grass of the Godswood, and Lyanna was smiling down at him, asking, “Do you feel better now?”

Artos sat up and shook himself out, “Aye. What happened?”

“I kissed you into a coma,” the audacious she-bear replied with a grin, “I seem to have that effect on boys. Here let me help you up.” Lyanna extended a hand and helped Artos to his feet, and continued, “Let us return to the feast. I believe that you could use some liquid refreshment.” She took his arm in a friendly fashion as they strolled, and casually inquired, “Did you enjoy what was obviously your first kiss?”

The innocent mountain lad became excited and exclaimed, “That was incredible! Lady Lyanna, I think I am in love with you! I have never felt anything like that!”

Lyanna laughed, “Don’t be so hasty, Artos! You need to do a lot more kissing before you think about love. There are plenty of girls in Winterfell and you are cute, so I suggest you sample some more while you are here.”

“No matter what you say, I still think your kiss was unbelievable, my lady, and I am in awe!” Artos protested.

At this remark, the bold she-bear could not help but tease the naïve boy, “If you think that was amazing, imagine what it would feel like if I had offered to couple with you!” and she stroked him high on his thigh with her free hand.

Artos turned beet-red and felt a jolt of electricity in his center, and his cock immediately came to attention. Stuttering with embarrassment, he said, “Lady Lyanna! I don’t even want to entertain such an improper thought! Now I really do need a cold drink! You have completely discombobulated me and I fear that you will haunt my dreams tonight!”

Lyanna grinned, “Good! I like to hear boys say that! Here we are. Let’s find that cooling drink. I enjoyed _dancing_ with you, Artos!” she added with a wink.

________________________

When the feast finally came to a close, and Northern parties would often last late into the night, Theon accompanied Lyanna to her chamber. She had taken his arm as they strolled, and was smiling up at him as he described what happened when he accosted Bran. Upon reflection, Theon realized that he had enjoyed being a matchmaker, and told her so. He liked she-bear’s shining eyes and open, cheerful expression as she looked at him approvingly while he spoke. Theon found himself thinking that Lyanna was an interesting girl, and he was more intrigued than he had expected to be. “You may be right, my lady, we may be a well-matched couple,” he murmured in her ear as he squeezed her enticing arse.

Lyanna giggled and retorted, “I _told_ you so, but your mind is slower than mine,” and she squeezed _his_ arse in return, causing Theon to jump in surprise. They had arrived at her door, and this time when he leaned in to kiss her, they tangled tongues, and were transfixed with passion for a few sweet minutes. Lyanna moaned and pressed against him, and Theon realized that he had become very aroused. He attempted to fondle her breasts, so appealing in her attractive gown, but felt only the firm resistance of the stiff whalebone corset.

Lyanna snickered, “Mayhaps you will have the opportunity to touch my bosom someday, but not today!” Leaning back, she saw Theon’s frustration, and fondled his cock through his breeches, drawing her fingernails along the length of his erection, and quickly disappeared behind her door with a delightful giggle.

 _Seven hells,_ he thought, _at this hour I will only find satisfaction with my own hand! The little vixen as certainly played me for a fool of a green boy!_ But then he smiled to himself, _I have to admit that the she-bear is the most fascinating creature I have met in a long time!_ He was eager to tell his best friend Robb his account of the enjoyable evening.

________________________

The next morning, Lyanna met Meera at her door, so they could speak privately as they walked to break their fast. The she-bear was dying to learn what her friend had experienced the previous night. Impatiently, Lyanna blurted, “Well, what happened? I sent Theon to spur Bran into action, and I know he did. Tell me!”

Meera returned a demure countenance, “Thank Theon for me. I am glad that Bran asked me to dance. It was quite nice. And then we went into the Godswood.” Her face took on a faraway gaze, “You were right. I really enjoyed kissing Bran. I like Bran and it was so sweet to hug and kiss him. I have never felt anything like that before. It was a totally new experience, and it was thrilling!”

Lyanna smirked and impudently asked, “Did you feel a thrill between your legs, too?”

Meera blushed and confessed, “A little. That was new, also, and I thought about it all night.”

“So it begins. It will only get better,” the younger, but far more experienced girl, replied, “You must find more opportunities to be alone and kiss him again. As I offered before, I can take Jojen off your hands if you like. I wonder what it would be like to kiss _him_.”

Meera looked shocked, “You want to kiss my _brother?!_ ”

Lyanna was nonchalant, “Only as an experiment. I have kissed almost all the boys here, anyway, and it would be fun to compare them. I wouldn’t mind kissing Gendry, he is so masculine, but I suppose Sansa would be upset if I did. Besides, for such a delicious mountain of maleness, he is Sansa’s puppy dog, so there is no fun in tempting him.”

Meera shook her head, “Lyanna, you are way out of my league. I don’t know what to say.”

“Just keep your attention on Bran and you will be a happy girl,” the she-bear smiled, “that is all you need to do.”

________________________

At breakfast, Lyanna made eye contact with Sansa and they moved to sit together, surrounded by other curious girls. The maidens made space between themselves and the boys, and if any lad attempted to sit near them, they told him to get lost, as they would be gossiping about boys. The boys just grinned and laughed, as they also had lots to discuss. Sansa impatiently asked, “Well, Lyanna, who were you kissing last night that so messed up your makeup?”

Lyanna laughed and replied, “I had a wonderful time! Theon is befuddled, Adrian is confused, and Artos is in love with me! It was a lot of fun!”

A shocked Sansa protested, “But Lyanna, if you like Theon, why are you fooling around with all these boys?”

“I like to kiss boys, don’t you? Kissing is really harmless, anyway,” Lyanna said.

Sansa was flustered but admitted, “I like kissing Gendry.”

Lyanna smiled and told her, “I would certainly like to kiss Gendry, also. I imagine what his big strong hands could do to me.”

Sansa blushed, as she knew exactly what the she-bear was alluding to.

Lyanna queried, “I suppose you would not like it if I kissed Gendry?”

Sansa replied, “Nae, I would not like it. And Lyanna, isn’t kissing other boys cheating on Theon?”

“I’m only kissing boys. He could kiss girls if he wanted to, since he hasn’t declared that I am the only girl for him, but Theon is whoring. Whoring is cheating, as far as I am concerned. If and when we become formally betrothed and he stops going into Wintertown, I will only kiss him.”

Jeyne had been frowning since Lyanna had mentioned Squire Adrian’s name, so the she-bear addressed her. “Jeyne, you need to have a serious talk with Adrian. He doesn’t know what he wants! He told me that he dreamt of me, but I _know_ he also thinks about Arya Stark. If you are so sure that he is yours, you better get the truth from him.”

Then she turned to Sansa again, “And Sansa, if Artos Flint is going to stay at Winterfell for a while, you better find him a sweetheart or he is going to be crushing on me, and I don’t want that.”

“Why, what did you do to him?” Sansa was intrigued.

Lyanna actually blushed, “He is so cute and innocent that I took him into the Godswood and practically raped him. It was his first kiss, and I so impressed him that he thinks he is in love with me. We need to find someone else for him to obsess over.” She glanced at some of the other maidens who were daughters of the visiting Stark bannermen. “Mayhaps one of you would like to approach Artos. As I said, he is cute and sweet and serious, and you would have fun with him.”

Sansa rolled her eyes, “I think that you are even more dangerous than my sister when it comes to romance. Whatever am I to do with you?”

The she-bear just grinned mischievously, “Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. Worry more about the clueless boys here, they need help!”

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Meanwhile, at the other end of the hall, the boys were talking about the previous night also. Theon had confessed earlier to his best friend Robb that he thought he was crushing on the little spitfire of a Mormont, and Robb said that he approved, saying that she was vivacious and a lot of fun. Now the boys were talking about how pretty the girls of Winterfell were and how much they enjoyed dancing with them. They also could not help but discuss the enticing bosoms they had presented in their gowns, and the boys found themselves comparing whose breasts they thought were the finest. Theon found himself getting annoyed hearing the boys express admiration for Lyanna’s figure and spirit, and especially put out by the number of boys she had flirted with or kissed during the feast. Squire Adrian said that kissing her in the Godswood was even better than his dreams, and Artos Flint stated firmly that he found the she-bear enticing and was madly in love. Even placid Gendry the smith looked intrigued as he listened to the talk about Lyanna. Theon brooded, but he knew that he could not complain, as he had not declared that she was off-limits. _I can’t believe how much the wench has complicated my life!_ he thought, but he had to admit that he found her irresistible too.

On the lighter side, the boys teased Bran for disappearing into the Godswood with Meera, and he blushed, but they also congratulated him for acquiring a cute sweetheart.

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A few days after the feast, Lady Catelyn welcomed Meera, Jojen, and Bran into her solar with a broad smile and an impressive display of teapots and delicious little cakes and candies. With a very pleasant expression, she addressed the wary youths. “Well, I am most pleased to learn that you, Lady Meera, and you, my dear Bran, have developed affection for each other. Meera, your parents have informed me that they would be pleased if I found a suitable match for you, and Bran, your lord father and I are very fond of the Reed family and are very happy that you feel the same way for a daughter of the House.”

She paused to let this news sink in, as all three children looked startled. She continued, “Bran, I know you may think that you are too young to consider a betrothal, but as a scion of the Great House of the North, it is never too early to discuss an arranged marriage. Now, you _do_ like Meera, don’t you?”

The bewildered youngster nodded.

“And, Meera, could you see yourself wed to Bran and living at Winterfell?”

The new emotions the teenage crannogwoman had begun to experience just in the last few day had almost overwhelmed her, but for the most part she was happy and realized that she enjoyed her new home. Meera felt that she was ready to consider her future as a married lady, knowing that it would please her parents, also. Still, though, she was embarrassed by the topic and the attention and lowered her eyes as she softly responded, “Aye.”

Lady Stark was very pleased. “Good! Obviously you won’t wed for several years, but you can pursue your friendship and education together until then.” She paused as she noticed that Jojen’s countenance was dark and scowling. “Jojen, why are you frowning? Is there a problem?” Catelyn queried with frank curiosity.

“It is all nice and sweet that you can be discussing weddings and betrothals, but you do not realize that we may all be dead before any of these events come to pass!”

“Whatever do you mean?” the shocked woman asked with fear in her voice, spurred by the emotions shown by the young crannogman.

“My father says, that like many of my ancestors, I have the ‘greensight’ and can see the future. Several times in my life that has proved to be true. Starks also have a link to the long past, and there have been greenseers in this House, also. You should know that Bran has greensight, too,” Jojen informed her.

Lady Catelyn turned to her son. “Is this true, Bran?”

Unsmilingly, the boy replied in a whisper, “I have had troubling dreams.”

“We have _both_ dreamed repeatedly of a frightening ice man with piercing blue eyes that seem to bore into our souls, and his hateful gaze feels too real to simply be a dream." Jojen picked up the thread, "The ice man is standing in front of an army of undead soldiers and when he knows that he has our attention, he sneers, 'Winter is coming, and _I_ am winter!'”

Jojen said that he was sure that the danger was north of the Wall, and hadn’t started to march yet, but it obviously posed a threat to the Night’s Watch and eventually all of Westeros. He gravely announced, “For now our attention is rightly on the battle in the south, but soon we may be in serious danger. The North will need to prepare itself against this threat.”

Bran added, “My dreams are filled with worry about Jon at the Wall, but I am sure he is safe right now. Jojen is sure that we will know when the ice man and his evil army start moving, but until then we need to be wary.”

Lady Catelyn saw how concerned and serious the two boys appeared to be and did not dismiss their warnings. Instead she bit her lips and replied, “We must inform Lord Stark and Maester Luwin of what you have told me, and a raven should probably be sent to the Wall also. Please tell me immediately if there is any change to your dreams. You are very brave lads.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next we return to King’s Landing and end the siege. Prince Aegon’s forces will need help to break into the near impregnable castle of the Red Keep, and they will get it.


	60. The Siege Ends

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 60 The Siege Ends

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Previously:

The fighting within the city was intense, and the Lannister forces were at a disadvantage as they were fewer in number and were being attacked on three fronts. Ser Jaime, seeing his losses mounting, ordered the retreat, and the surviving knights and soldiers withdrew into the walls of the Red Keep, the impregnable royal castle within the city. The frustrated fighters of the allied armies were forced to draw back because they were now within range of Lannister archers and artillery on the battlements of the castle, and their own artillery were too far away to effectively defend them. Leaving a substantial force within the city walls, the leaders returned to their encampment to assess the butcher’s bill and to plot their next step.

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Lord Connington and the leaders of Prince Aegon’s allied armies met constantly to try to devise a plan that would allow them to enter the Red Keep and defeat the Lannisters for once and for all. Their casualties had been minimal during their conquest of the city walls, but they dared not approach the inner castle, as the walls of the Red Keep were thick and stout, and the gates were constructed of solid, heat-treated wood, almost as hard as iron and virtually fireproof.

Now that the Targaryen forces commanded most of King’s Landing, Arya and Sarra suggested to Lord Jon that he send representatives into Flea Bottom and the other inhabited parts of the city to assess the state of health of the citizens, who had been subject to the ruinous siege. The Sand Snakes assumed that starvation and sickness had been rampant, and food and medicine should forthwith be taken from the captured Tyrell supply train and delivered to the smallfolk. Sarra handed him a list of the captured goods that could be dispersed and a city map with probable distribution locations denoted. Jon nodded and assigned the task to Haldon and a few other maesters. Since supplies were so valuable in the city, the maesters would need a troop of guards to prevent theft and panic.

“It’s the least we can do to immediately relieve the suffering,” Arya told him, and Jon smiled at her, thinking, _As I suspected, her lord father really did instill in her a sense of responsibility for the poor and needy. She has a good heart, and I am pleased to see that although Sarra appears to be simply a wanton in the eyes of many, she is intelligent and has a serious side. After the coronation, I will officially appoint her as my Assistant Hand, and prepare her to work side by side with the royal couple._

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The allied forces brought war machines into the city, and started to pound the Keep, but the effort was not very effective. The walls and gates resisted the attacks, and there were few soldiers exposed in the bailey and courtyards. The most important targets, the Lannisters themselves, were holed up in Meagher’s Holdfast, the impregnable inner castle within the Red Keep. The Lannisters’ main problems were dwindling supplies, and the terrorized and underfed soldiers that composed their army, who were not in the best condition for fighting. Still, the defenders were well-protected by the walls of the castle and were determined to hold out.

Finally, the leaders of the Targaryen army decided to make a major push, inundating the Red Keep with flaming arrows, rocks, and burning flagons. The Lannisters still commanded their battlements, and rained death in the form of rocks, arrows, and hot oil on the attackers, and more casualties were taken than previously. Seeing their losses mounting, Lord Jon reluctantly called the retreat, and once again the captains held a conference to ponder their options. Suddenly an excited messenger on an exhausted horse, wearing Stannis Baratheon’s colors, rode up to the council pavilion announcing that he was bringing word from Dragonstone that three dragons had landed on the towers of the island, and Queen Daenerys was riding a huge black one. A fleet of ships containing her army was also seen approaching Blackwater Bay.

A short while later, a blood-curdling screech was heard, terrorizing every horse and most men within its range, and a huge dark form, as large as a building, dropped out of the sky and landed in the clearing outside the council pavilion, shaking the ground like an earthquake. It was Drogon, Daenerys Targaryen’s largest dragon, an impressive sight with his snakelike black body streaked with scarlet. His horns and immense wings were scarlet also, his head was larger than a wheelhouse, and his ebony teeth as long as a man was tall. The diminutive woman who climbed down from his back appeared even smaller in relation to the huge beast, whose forked tongue was lashing the air as steam shot out of his nostrils. No one present had ever seen a creature so frightening and beautiful at the same time. The assembled leaders had exited the tent and were prepared to meet the dragon queen, who they hoped would become their ally.

Arya was present and was extremely curious about Daenerys, knowing that she was Aegon’s aunt, and stood in front to welcome her, with Lord Jon, General Obara, Lady Nym, Lord Renly, and Prince Aegon. The dragon queen had ten and eight namedays, but was not taller than Arya, who had seen only ten and three, however, she had a very womanly, voluptuous figure, which was prominently on display by her clothing. Queen Daenerys was dressed in voluminous silk pantaloons and a small halter top that revealed her narrow waist, flat stomach, and the upper curves of her lush breasts. Her long silver-white hair, braided with small tinkling bells, cascaded down her back, almost to her shapely arse, and her facial features were beautiful and alluring, with her plump ruby lips, high cheekbones, and entrancing violet eyes. Her overall effect was to stop any man in his tracks and leave him mesmerized.

The wolf girl was struck by how much the queen resembled her nephew Aegon; it was obvious that the handsome prince was her close relative. Although she appeared very soft and feminine, she exuded strength and power, as the leader of an army of thousands and almost as many smallfolk. Arya was very impressed and was eager to meet her. The she-wolf thought that it was ironic that although Aegon was the queen’s nephew, they were very close in age, as Daenerys had only a few more namedays than the prince.

Lord Jon stepped forward, bowed, and introduced himself, Lord Renly, and the Sand Snakes first, and then presented her nephew Aegon and Lady Arya. Upon seeing the youth that so clearly resembled her long lost brothers, Daenerys quickly moved to embrace him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears for having a family again, and she said, “I am very happy to meet you. Please call me Dany.” The leaders relaxed when the saw this, assuming that there was no doubt that the dragon queen was on their side.

After exchanging a few words of greeting, Aegon introduced Arya as his intended bride. Arya blushed. She simply could not get used to being referred to as the prince’s future consort, especially since in her mind both of them were barely more than children. Dany appeared concerned at his pronouncement, and asked, “Considering all the trouble our family has had in the past, do you think it is fitting that you plan to wed a Stark?”

Aegon was stubborn, and insisted, “We love each other, and I see no problem with our relationship, even if my father and Lady Lyanna Stark endured a terrible fate. I am confident that our destiny will be different.” Daenerys looked doubtful, but said nothing.

Now Lord Jon invited Daenerys into the council tent, saying that her thoughts would be most valuable in determining the next step. Connington and Obara described the siege and the battle and brought the queen up to date on their effort. When she learned that Arya, with only ten and three namedays, commanded a battery of war machines herself and had improved the accuracy of the whole artillery, she told the girl, “I am impressed. You really are a warrior woman!”

Arya proudly straightened her posture and replied, “I have worked hard to become a Sand Snake and look to Visenya Targaryen as my ideal. I intend to use my training to eliminate Cersei Lannister and her evil family and revenge my own family and Prince Aegon’s.”

The dragon queen smiled broadly, “I take back my previous statements. You are a certainly a fitting consort for my nephew!”

Now Daenerys addressed Lord Jon and the council, “Well, it seems to me that if we cannot break _into_ the Red Keep, we must persuade the residents to open the gates themselves. I propose to warm the towers of the castle with my ‘children’ and send the Lannisters into a panic. Dragon’s breath is sufficiently hot enough to melt stone, so I expect that it will not take long to encourage the inhabitants to attempt to flee the burning castle. My soldiers will soon arrive to join the army, and together I think that our foes will not stand a chance against us.”

When the complete Targaryen army was assembled, each unit was deployed to various locations within the walls of the city and surrounding the Red Keep, prepared to fight the escaping Lannister army at the proper time. The war machine batteries were also brought in to clear defenders from the parapets if they dared to show their faces and even ignore the possibility of dying from dragon’s breath.

With blood-curdling shrieks, terrorizing the inhabitants of the castle, Daenerys’ three dragons descended upon the Red Keep, their loudly flapping wings adding to the cacophony of sounds within it, and belched fire over the towers. The heat from the flames was unbearable, and witnesses were shocked to see the stone melting and flowing like water. Before long the gates were thrown open and the panicked inhabitants fled for their lives, screaming and falling over each other in their desire to escape the hell raining down from the sky. The first refugees were unarmed smallfolk, and the army let them pass unharmed. From where she waited, Arya watched them carefully, expecting the Lannister family to try to slip away disguised as servants.

The terrified smallfolk were followed by foot soldiers, nervous but prepared to fight their enemies, and at last the allied forces were able to engage the defending army. The Lannister foot soldiers were soon supported by mounted knights in full plate armor, and the battle intensified.

Lord Tywin and Ser Kevan were leading the knights, and Lord Jon and the mounted warriors of Golden Company opposed them. Ser Jaime was not seen among them, and Prince Aegon, flanked by Ser Rolly and Ser Barristan, Arya, Nymeria, Lady Nym, and Sarra rush past the first wave and entered Maegor’s Holdfast. They encountered a group of red cloak guards, but not the royal family. After defeating the small rear guard, they searched for Queen Cersei and the others, and their labors were not that difficult, as most of the chamber doors had been left open, with possessions littering the corridors, as the residents had made a hasty exit. However, there was no sign of the Lannisters.

Suddenly Lord Varys appeared in front of them, with his unarmed hands in the air to show that he was harmless, and announced, “Follow me! Cersei, Jaime, and the children are escaping through a secret underground path in the dungeons, and they are presently in the chamber of dragon skulls. Beyond that room, the path leads out of the castle to a hidden cove in Blackwater Bay, where small boats are waiting to take them to the opposite shore.”

Prince Aegon’s party hastened to descend to the dungeons, and encountered Ser Jaime, The Hound, and the remaining red cloak guards facing them with swords raised menacingly. Queen Cersei, Tommen and Marcella were cowering with fear behind the armed men. Impulsively, Aegon screamed, “Murderer!” and rushed ahead of his Kingsguard and attacked Ser Jaime, and the skilled knight knocked him down. Luckily, the prince’s armor protected him from any real harm. Ser Barristan moved in front of Aegon and began trading powerful blows with Ser Jaime, as Ser Rolly fought the Hound, both ferocious warriors being equal in size and strength.

Nym, Sarra, and Arya fought the remaining red cloaks, and when they had been subdued or killed, Arya approached Cersei with Needle pointed at her chest, demanding angrily, “Where is your weapon? I will not kill an unarmed woman, and I have been waiting a long time to confront you, bitch!”

Ser Rolly had disarmed The Hound, who glared up at him from the floor, angry and frustrated at being so helpless, and Ser Barristan held Ser Jaime at bay in a standoff, but Jaime realized at this point he was outnumbered and soon would have to yield.

Lady Nym put her hand on Arya’s shoulder and said, “Stand down, wolf girl, the evil queen is quite helpless and will soon be tried for her crimes and imprisoned.”

Arya lowered her sword and backed off, but suddenly Cersei shrieked, “Harlot! You Starks are the cause of all my troubles!” and attacked Arya with a previously hidden dagger, stabbing her in the side, the knife slicing through the boiled leather of her bodice.

Instinctively, Arya raised Needle and responded to the assault, impaling Cersei right through the heart, and the queen instantly fell to the floor, dead. Ser Jaime looked anguished and horrified and screamed, “Nae! I should have killed you years ago!” and suddenly stepped forward, swinging his greatsword at Arya. Nymeria jumped to protect her mistress and snapped at him, distracting him and causing his strike to bounce harmlessly off of her armored skirt. Ser Barristan acted quickly and stabbed Ser Jaime through the leather bindings connecting his breastplate to his back plate, and his sword deeply entered the knight’s chest, mortally wounding him. Selmy observed his longtime enemy with contempt and muttered, “Die, Kingslayer!” as Jaime’s lifeblood seeped from his body. Ironically, the doomed, incestuous Lannister twins appeared to be at peace, lying next to each other in death, their distraught and dismayed children standing nearby, wailing and clutching each other.

Arya was rushed to a maester, who pronounced that her wound was debilitating, but the dagger had not struck any vital organs. He stitched and bandaged the wound carefully and gave her strict orders to remain in bed until the she had begun to heal. 

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Meanwhile, outside the Red Keep, The battle was inevitably going badly for the outnumbered Lannister forces, and one by one the soldiers with the golden lions on their chests threw down their swords and raised their hands over their heads, shouting, “I yield!”

The sight only caused grim-faced Lord Tywin to fight harder, and Lord Connington, being younger and more skillful, was forced to kill him with a blow to the neck. Grief-stricken Kevan Lannister, now in command, bellowed, “Lay down your arms!” and formally surrendered to the Targaryens, his sorrow doubled with the death of his son Lancel as well as his brother Tywin in the battle.

Ser Kevan was actually a peaceful man, and was tired of the bloodshed. He laid his sword at Lord Jon’s feet, and when Aegon arrived and consulted briefly with his Hand, the prince announced the terms of surrender. “I hereby disband the Lannister army. Golden Company will seize all your weapons and armor. Conscripts, I order you to return home and take up your previous occupations; soldiers, you will become local constables and town guards. Casterly Rock is to pay double tithe to the capital for a period of ten years as well as give up any claim to material captured in the goldroad wagon train.” Ser Kevan nodded wearily, accepting the terms, and prepared to return to the Westerlands with the surviving Lannister retainers and fighters. Prince Aegon was generous enough to allow the Lannisters to keep their horses.

Prince Aegon called for the Tyrells to be brought from their pavilion, and demanded that they offer fealty to Targaryen rule on pain of death and confiscation of all property for allying themselves with the Lannisters. Lord Mace and Lady Olenna bent the knee and accepted the Targaryens as the rightful leaders of Westeros. The prince announced that Highgarden would pay double tithe to the capital for five years. Mace, Olenna, and Ser Garlan would return to the Reach following the coronation and vow never take up arms again. Lady Margaery would remain in King’s Landing with her ladies, regarded as an ‘honored guest’ and the future bride of a lord of the Targaryen’s choosing.

After the battle, Daenerys landed her three dragons inside the city, at the historic site of the Dragonpit on Rhaenys’ Hill. The home of dragons harkening back for three centuries, it was now in ruins and had been abandoned for one hundred and fifty years. The walls and dome had collapsed, but once the huge iron gates were forced open, there was room for the dragons, and Daenerys’ men began the restoration of the ‘dragons’ castle’ and prepared to rebuild a comfortable lair for her ‘children’, as she called them. Dragon handlers from her army called ‘firemen’, trained to handle and feed the dangerous beasts, met her there and took over the care of her ‘children’. Daenerys spoke to the army’s victualers about providing for them, suggesting that they arrange for oxen and sheep to be brought to the Dragonpit. The dragon queen smiled wickedly, “If, mayhaps, there are not enough animals to feed my hungry dragons, they would be most happy to thin the ranks of the townspeople to fill their bellies." Her Dothraki kinsmen barked with cruel laughter, and the Westerosi present looked horrified, and Daenerys had to reassure them that she was only japing, but they were still wary, and hastily called for the animals required.

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Now that the battle was won, stewards were sent into the Red Keep to clean it and prepare it for occupation by the various nobles and their closest retainers. Support staff, including many smallfolk who had previously worked in the castle, were recruited and assigned their responsibilities. One of the most important tasks was preparing for the coronation of the dual monarchs. Ravens were sent to the most important Houses of Westeros, inviting the lords of the realm to the coronation and requesting that they pledge fealty to Targaryen rule. Daenerys looked concerned and said, “The prophecy was that ‘the dragon has three heads’.”

Lord Jon and Lady Ashara made eye contact, and Jon approached her, quietly asking if they should confide in the dragon queen. Ashara replied, “Why not? We can be discrete and not reveal too much.” When the meeting broke up, Jon asked Daenerys and Aegon to remain in the chamber.

Connington spoke haltingly, “Your grace, I have dependable information that there _is_ a third head.” Both Dany and Aegon look very intrigued.

Lady Ashara added, “Lyanna and Rhaegar had a son. We have been assured that he is alive, although he has been hidden for all these years because his enemies would kill him if they knew his true identity.”

“My queen,” Lord Jon continued, “you have another nephew, and Aegon, you have a half-brother, who by birth, is also a Stark.”

Tears streaking down their faces with the unexpected news, Daenerys turned to Aegon and exclaimed, “Our little family is growing!” They hugged and the queen looked at Jon and said, “A Stark, eh? It appears that Starks and Targaryens are fated to join Houses.”

Lord Jon nodded and replied, “The problem is now – what should we do? If the ‘third head’ is revealed right now, his life would be in danger. I suggest that we not say anything until the proper time. Your Stark nephew does have protectors and we can speak to them in the future about introducing him to the realm.”

Daenerys sniffled, wiping her eyes, “I cannot wait to meet this young man!” and

Prince Aegon nodded vigorously in agreement, thinking, _I have a brother! I must tell Arya!_

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Order was soon restored in the city, and the bells of the Great Sept of Baelor began ringing jubilantly as a crowd gathered. The High Septon appeared on the landing at the top of the steps of the Sept and welcomed the return of Targaryen rule to Westeros. He then declared that Queen Cersei and her brother were incestuous and had deserved to die; and their offspring were abominations and should be put to the sword.

Prince Aegon had received word of the pending announcement and arrived at the Great Sept. He thanked the High Septon for his welcome, but added that enough blood had been shed, and Tommen and Myrcella would be banished to Casterly Rock, not executed, as an example of the compassion and mercy that the Targaryens wished to demonstrate to the whole kingdom. Daenerys and Aegon were cynically aware that the High Septon, having remained quiet while the Lannisters ruled for fear of losing his head, wished to ingratiate himself with the new rulers, but decided not to confront him about his lack of nerve.

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Lord Jon was arranging his new quarters inside the Tower of the Hand, and heard his door open and then shut with the click of the lock. He turned and saw Lady Nym standing there smiling at him, clothed in translucent silk robes, designed more for sleeping in than displaying in public. The lovely Dornish girl approached him, and as she had done the first time she met him, stared deeply into his eyes, kissed him on the cheek, and pressed her breasts against him. The Sand Snake murmured alluringly, “My lord, we agreed to wait until after the battle to pursue our friendship, and I believe that time has come,” then started unbuttoning his tunic and peppering his throat with butterfly kisses.

The serious old warhorse visibly relaxed and smiled broadly in response as he started to slip her robes off of her shoulders, “My dear Nymeria, the time _is_ right, and I am eager to prove how much I desire you.”

In respect for Lord Jon’s dignity, we will close the door on the new lovers, and simply imagine what occurred afterwards. I _will_ say that they _both_ were very satisfied.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: There are many details to work out now that Daenerys has returned to Westeros and Targaryen rule has been established, and most importantly, there will be a coronation, followed by a wedding and a bedding.


	61. Connections and Reconnections

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be the coronation chapter, but with the Starks descending on King’s Landing, the meetings and greeting took over the plot. The double coronation will be covered in Chapter 62.
> 
> This chapter is as fluffy as a pair of bunny slippers.
> 
> Ages may be confusing at this point in the story. I’ll try to clear this up: Arya and Lyanna are almost 14. Adrian and Artos are 15. Ned Dayne, Sansa, and Jeyne are 16. Aegon, Robb, Theon, Gendry, and Sarra are 17. Margaery is 18. Tyene is 21 and Lady Nym is almost 23.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 61 Connections and Reconnections

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Celibacy Has Its Rewards

Previously:

The Sand Snake murmured alluringly, “My lord, we agreed to wait until after the battle to pursue our friendship, and I believe that time has come,” then started unbuttoning his tunic and peppering his throat with butterfly kisses.

The serious old warhorse visibly relaxed and smiled broadly in response, “My dear Nymeria, the time _is_ right, and I am eager to prove how much I desire you.”

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As the sunlight began to grow stronger outside his window, Jon Connington lay back in his bed with a broad smile on his face. In all his fifty-odd years, he had never felt so contented in his life. The beautiful young woman in his arms, half his age, had promised to give him an experience he would never forget, and the uninhibited Sand Snake had been true to her word. The older knight and his talented lover had shared an incredible night of bliss, and he believed that the Dornish girl had been as pleased with his performance as he had been with the fantastic skill for lovemaking that she had demonstrated. It thrilled him to recall how passionately she had moaned his name as they consummated their relationship.

Lady Nym’s head lay on Lord Jon’s chest, and she quietly stroked the grey hair growing there as he gently caressed her bare back, occasionally sliding his hand down to fondle the lovely curves of her fetching arse. His other hand was fondling her long black hair, bound in a single braid, and intermittently he would softly kiss the top of her head. Both of them would have been happy to lie there indefinitely. Now and then he would look down and see the large and perfectly round globes of her breasts pressed against his chest. Her teats were hidden from his gaze, but that did not matter as he had lavished much attention on them earlier, and their delicious pink shapes were permanently seared into his brain. Jon remembered how annoyed he had been with the brazen girl when she had so impudently forced herself on him at their first encounter. At the time he had dismissed her as an impertinent cock tease, bent on embarrassing a serious old soldier. Now he knew that characterization to be false, as there was obviously love growing between them. Nym’s ardor for him during their lovemaking revealed how much she really cared. As promised, the amorous Sand Snake had remained celibate for several months, which made her desire for satisfaction even more intense, and of course, Lord Jon had been celibate for untold decades.

He pressed another kiss into her hair and the girl looked up with large brown inquisitive eyes. Lord Jon stroked her cheek and murmured, “After the coronation, Aegon will restore my birthright and I will be Lord of Griffin’s Roost in the Stormlands. The castle overlooks Shipbreaker Bay and has a remarkable view of the sea.” His eyes had a faraway gaze as he recollected, “The dense forests are dark green and the air is cool and moist from the frequent rains. Waves break at the base of the sea cliffs below my home.” Nym reflected how hot and dry her desert homeland normally was.

Now he kissed her gently on the lips and gazed earnestly into her face, “When Aegon and Daenerys have things well in hand, I intend to retire to my ancestral lands. Would you like to accompany me as my Lady?”

The Sand Snake’s eyes became wide and she kissed him back, “Would I wed you, Jon Connington? I will certainly consider it.” Connington smiled with delight and Lady Nym added shyly, “Would you desire for me to stop taking my tea?”

It was Lord Jon’s turn to be surprised. “Babes?! I had never thought I would be fortunate enough to become a father! Do you want to bear my children, Nymeria?”

Lady Nym looked thoughtful and replied with a grin, “Mayhaps I would! It is one of the few things I have not done in my life!”

Connington laughed and hugged the girl as she gifted him with a deep kiss, and within a few minutes they were practicing wholeheartedly again to bring a child into the world.

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Preparing for the Coronation

After the defeat of the Lannister’s, the Great Houses of the realm prepared to send representatives to the capital to bend the knee and accept Targaryen rule once again. Stannis Baratheon would be arriving from Dragonstone, Ser Edmure Tully, the heir to the Riverlands, would come from Riverrun, and Lord Nestor Royce, the High Steward, would represent The Vale of Arryn, as Lady Lysa Arryn and her sickly son remained in the Eyrie. Lord Balon Greyjoy sent his daughter Asha, a sea captain and trained fighter, from the Iron Islands. Theon met his sister, whom he had not seen in years, and she sadly confided that as he had resided at Winterfell for most of his life, the Ironborn considered him to be more Stark than Greyjoy, more of the green lands than the salty sea, and would not support his claim to the throne. Even worse, she told him, his uncles would plot to kill him if he appeared on Pike.

Before the double coronation, there was much to do. The future monarchs met with the High Septon to plan for the rituals of the ceremony at the Great Sept. Aegon, Daenerys, and Lord Jon met with their liege lords as they arrived, and listened to their woes. Some had grievances as neighboring nobles had often taken different sides during the war and attacked each other, and judgments needed to be made. Sarra assisted Lord Jon and the royals as they dealt with these delicate political affairs, and if asked, he said that she was being groomed to take over as Hand to the King when he retired. If any eyebrows were raised, he insisted that the lord not be distracted by her age and gender, but that she was well educated and skilled in matters of state.

The royals and Lord Jon had the responsibility of reforming the Small Council, as Littlefinger, Varys, and Grand Maester Pycelle were holdovers from past regimes. Ned Stark had given Lord Jon his impressions of King Robert’s Council members, and Jon suggested that they replace Littlefinger, retain Varys, and humor the senile Pycelle until a younger Grand Maester was sought from Oldtown.

Leaders of Golden Company took roles on the Small Council, specifically, Gorys Edoryen, the Golden Company paymaster, was asked to analyze the state of the royal treasury, which King Robert had plundered, and Littlefinger, as Master of Coin, had done little to relieve the financial crisis. Lord Connington had demanded one more concession from the Lannisters upon surrender – complete forgiveness for the loans Robert had taken from Casterly Rock. Lord Kevan was not happy about that, but had no choice but to agree, and Lord Jon pointed out that the Lannisters had done nothing to limit the past king’s prodigious spending, and were partially at fault.

Many courtiers expressed disapproval of having a sellsword as Master of Coin, but Prince Aegon told them, “It is time for necessary changes. Would you rather have incompetent highborns wasting the money you have contributed to the royal treasury, or have qualified managers in charge, spending money economically, and mayhaps preparing the way for reduced taxation in the future?” The suggestion of lowering taxes met universal approval, and the complaints subsided.

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Winterfell Invades the Red Keep

The Starks arrived for the coronation, coming by ship from White Harbor. It had been a pleasant voyage to King’s Landing, as wealthy Lord Wylis Manderly had generously offered Lord Stark the use of a swift sailing vessel. Lord Wylis was aware that ever since the feast, Robb Stark had been spending time with his daughters, Wynafryd and Wylla, and he hoped that he might become the grandfather of the heir to Winterfell and the North. Theon, Lyanna, Gendry, Jeyne, Mariah, Adrian, Artos, and the Manderly girls all accompanied the Stark family to King’s Landing. Bran, Jojen, Meera, Maester Luwin, and Ser Rodrik Cassel stayed in Winterfell to defend it. “‘There must always be a Stark in Winterfell’,” Ned had said as he made the arrangements. The Greatjon Umber also remained at Winterfell to help protect it. Little Beth Cassel made Gendry promise that he would return to Winterfell, as the infatuated child said she was still going to marry him.

Arya had been wounded and undergoing enforced bed rest. She was healed by the arrival date of her family and excitedly rushed to the pier to greet them. The young Sand Snake decided to be girly and dressed in silk robes with all her jewelry on display, colored her features subtly, and brushed her long tresses out until they shone and wove the hair near her face into two braids that were tied behind her head. However, she still wore Needle and a dagger at her waist, and the cinched belt revealed her developing figure.

Grey Wind was the first to come bounding down the gangplank, and Nymeria approached her littermate. The two direwolves sniffed each other and when each recognized their kin, they start whining and wrestling, and finally ran around madly for joy. They sniffed their human family members too, and demanded pats and belly rubs, with furiously wagging tails.

Arya was reunited with her father amid copious hugs and tears. She had written about her skill with catapults, and he mentioned this right away. Ravens from Lady Nym in Dorne had informed him about the results of her education, and he was very pleased that she took her studies seriously. Lord Ned had to remark on her close resemblance to his dear sister Lyanna and Arya told him that she has heard that comment constantly from all the old campaigners, even Targaryen soldiers.

Arya met her lady mother for first time in years and Catelyn remarked on her physical changes, “A skinny child left Winterfell, and I see before me a lovely young lady. Arya, you have certainly grown!” Shyly and with a blushing face, she introduced Prince Aegon to her mother, muttering, “He is my best friend, and our betrothal will be announced at the coronation.” Catelyn was impressed by handsome, regal young man, who bowed, kissed her hand and politely said, “My lady, I look forward to addressing you as ‘good-mother’.” Lady Stark’s eyes became damp and she choked out, “That is the sweetest thing I have ever heard!” Sansa, standing nearby, flashed a broad smile.

Sansa and Gendry greeted Prince Aegon and introduced him to Robb Stark. The Winterfell youths all had to remark on how Arya had matured. Gendry stared at the brooch he had fashioned, now lying on the curve of her breast, and said, “The jewelry looks good on you.” Arya thought that the smith was even more handsome than the last time she had seen him and would have impulsively given him a real kiss on the lips but was aware that Sansa was watching them closely.

Lord Jon greeted Ned like an old friend, and the two men embraced without shame. Connington was eager to tell him about his developing relationship with Lady Nym, embarrassed as a green boy. Ned congratulated him, and said, “You will be happy with married life. I am sure of it!” Jon blushed as he added that they were actually planning for babes.

Lord Stark and Lord Jon also had some serious business to discuss. Ned broached the subject first, saying that Arya was approaching her ten and fourth nameday, and Jon nodded, replying that they should make haste to wed Arya and Aegon before there was a problem, as they both were aware that the youths were becoming sexually active. Previously, Ned had delicately explained to Catelyn why it was necessary to marry off their daughter at such a young age, and she was not happy but saw the sense to it. The betrothal was to be announced at the coronation feast.

Arya introduced Catelyn to Lady Nym, stating that the young Dornish woman was her mentor. Lady Stark was intrigued with the beautiful and graceful young woman who wore a greatsword on her back and had knives in her belt. The Sand Snake smiled and said, “Arya is an excellent student. She was attentive to her lessons even while traveling, and learned several newly developed concepts. Nym paused for effect and continued, “You may find this surprising, but your daughter would be a success at the Citadel.” But then she grinned conspiratorially, “However, she prefers to apply her education to find better ways to kill her foes.”

Catelyn shook her head and replied, “That does not surprise me. As a child Arya boasted that she was going to protect Winterfell from dragons.” She tried to put out of her mind what she had heard about Nym’s lessons in the erotic arts, and was not willing to inquire about that subject.

Squire Adrian greeted Arya and blurted out that she looked stunning. Then he introduced her to Artos Flint and she greeted the lad as one should a fellow Northerner and bannerman. The she-wolf realized that both boys were gazing at her with adoring eyes and she hastened to move on, saying that she hoped to see them in the training yard.

Lady Stark finally met Lady Ashara Dayne, now Selmy, noting how the mature woman, with her purple eyes and smooth olive complexion, was still as beautiful as a teenage maiden. She tried not to be jealous. Ashara reflected fondly about sharing a pavilion with Arya and her attempts to convince the girl to pay attention to her grooming, remarking, “What finally worked was telling her that if she wanted to be Lord Jon’s ward, she must be neater or she would disgrace him. I must tell you that Lord Connington appreciated and used her talents, and Golden Company adored her and called her ‘the little wolf princess’.”

“I am not surprised,” Catelyn replied, “It was thus around our castle. All the staff loved her and she assisted at the forge, in the stables, and also the kitchens. I admit that I was wroth with her behavior, having no idea how character-building it actually was at the time.”

Lady Ashara’s eyes had become misty and she tried not to sob, “As I became more familiar with Arya, I came to think of her as the daughter I might have borne with Brandon Stark. I love her dearly.” Catelyn patted her hand, not sure what to say. Luckily, Ser Barristan Selmy approached at that moment, and Ashara proudly introduced the dignified knight as her husband. When Catelyn saw how Ashara looked at him with adoring eyes, she realized that she need not worry about the lovely Dornish lady having designs on her own husband and was relieved.

Arya introduced her mother to Sarra Martell, proudly announcing, “She is my Sand Snake sister. We are both apprenticed to Lady Nym and we have had a great time traveling and doing things together. Sarra and I have much in common.” Catelyn saw that the Dornish girl was as beautiful of feature and figure as Sansa, but had a countenance that implied intelligence and a mischievous nature. Lady Stark had been told that she had been sexually active since her ten and third nameday, and realized that Sarra was part of the reason why Arya needed to marry so young. She inwardly sighed and thought, _I suppose it is too late to worry about her influence on Arya._

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As the Stark party found their quarters in the Red Keep, Lady Nym and Sarra descended upon Gendry, smirking, “Well met, young smith, we are delighted to see you again!” Both Sand Snakes squeezed his arm and boldly kissed him lightly on the lips, smiling at him with the expression of a hungry predator. Sarra even had the audacity to stroke his inner thigh when she kissed him.

After the overfriendly greeting, Gendry warily stepped back, stammering, “It is good to see you, too.” The daring Dornish girls had always made him nervous and now he felt like they were about to pounce on him. Gendry was panicking and looking for an escape.

Sarra purred, “Gendry, we are planning to organize a masquerade, and we have the perfect costume for you!”

“That sounds very nice. I will look forward to it,” their prey uneasily replied, then blurted out, “Oh look! There’s Robb Stark! Pardon me, my ladies, but I must go speak to him! I am glad that you are well!” and escaped with his virtue intact.

Robb had not seen all of the exchange and asked, “What was that all about?”

Gendry wiped his brow with the back of his sleeve, “Those Sand Snakes were about to eat me alive!”

The young Northerner was watching the pair of silk-encased, shapely derrières gracefully walking away, and retorted, “I can think of worse ways to end my life! Gendry, have you always been such an idiot?!”

“You don’t know what you are talking about, Robb! Those girls would even be too much for Theon! They would chew him up and spit him out!” the sweaty smith insisted.

Robb was still looking at the Dornish girls and replied, “I think this is going to be an interesting trip. You are going to introduce me to the younger one, right?”

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In the training yard, wearing her sparring outfit, Arya proudly showed her battle scars to Robb, Gendry, and Theon, who were very amused. Theon had appreciated the pale flesh of her torso that had been exposed as she rearranged her skimpy warrior bodice, and he had been staring at her enticing thighs, revealed by her favorite butchered breeches. The squid prince asked, “My lady, do you have anything else to show us, and by the way, would you like an archery lesson?”

Robb looked annoyed and Arya smacked Theon in the shoulder, saying, “You are still fresh, Theon!” and added with a smirk and a toss of her braid, “I am betrothed to the king, and your remark is unseemly!”

Theon replied, “His grace is one lucky bastard!”

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Lyanna met Ser Jorah Mormont, her much older cousin, now the sworn shield to Queen Daenerys. The she-bear was uneasy about what she had heard about his disgrace and did not know how to approach him. She suggested sparing, and they asked questions of each other haltingly as they distractedly crossed blades. Ser Jorah admitted that he missed his home and regretted his failings. Lyanna felt pity, but thought that although he was physically big and strong, his character had lacked strength. She wondered, _Is that a paradox about men? They can appear very powerful, but in fact be weak of mind or integrity._ She also reflected on Gendry, _He is a mountain of a man, but with the heart of a puppy dog._

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Gendry Acquires a Family

Lord Stannis Baratheon arrived in King’s Landing for the coronation with his sour wife Selyse and their daughter Shireen. The teenage girl appeared smart and shapely, and had glossy black hair, which, for some reason, covered half of her face. Gendry was surprised to see her long black hair, square jaw, and brilliant blue eyes. It was like staring into a looking glass, and with a jolt he realized, _I have a cousin!_ The Winterfell youths who were familiar with the young smith also commented on her similarity to their friend and moved forward eagerly to make her acquaintance. Lady Shireen raised her head to greet the other children, and in doing so, her hair moved and revealed that it had hidden the fact that half her face and neck was covered in greyscale. The youths stopped, frozen in place, and some tried to stifle gasps, all except Jeyne, who loudly announced, “By the gods, that is disgusting!”

The undamaged part of Shireen’s face turned bright red and she turned way, mortified and chagrined. Her expression looked like she wished that she could just disappear. Arya had a dark expression on _her_ face, and with narrowed eyes and her hand on Needle’s pommel, approached Jeyne and spat, “It appears that you need another lesson in polite behavior! Apologize now or I will gut you!”

Jeyne muttered, almost below her breath, “I’m sorry!” and hurried away. Sansa and Squire Adrian looked aghast and the others all were awkward, unsure how to relieve the tension.

Robb Stark stepped into the breach and tried to mitigate the emotional damage. “Lady Shireen,” he softly told her, “Let me apologize for the thoughtless words of my uncouth companion. Apparently she is unable to discern inner beauty from mere outward appearance. I find you to be captivating and look forward to making friends with you. Starks and Baratheons have _always_ had a close relationship!”

Lady Shireen returned Robb’s gaze with a shy smile, “Thank you for the kind words, my lord. I look forward to making your acquaintance, too.”

Their eyes met, deep Tully blue to bright Baratheon blue, and Robb felt a shock, thinking, _I was not exaggerating! I **do** feel compelled to learn more about this girl!_

While Sansa approached Shireen to invite her to the Stark solar for tea and needlework, Arya took her brother aside and smirked, “Robb, you look like you received a blow to the head! Are you in love?!”

Robb returned a serious countenance and replied, “Sweet sister, I cannot deny that I am intrigued by Lady Shireen, more so than any other girl I have met! What if I _am_ in love?!”

The wolf girl laughed, “Well, you will just have to find out, won’t you?”

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Lords Stannis and Renly Baratheon met Gendry, having learned from Ned Stark that he was Robert’s oldest living male bastard. Seeing the young man’s resemblance to his father, they were surprised. Lord Stannis grimaced at first, and then introduced Shireen to Gendry as his cousin. Lord Renly japed, “My brother had no idea that his casual attitude toward coupling would produce the son he would have wanted, since those Lannister abominations were certainly _not_ Baratheons.”

Lord Stannis, with surprisingly damp eyes, became emotional and said, “I was prepared to reject you, denounce you, but seeing you now reminds me of the older brother I loved so much, in spite of his foolish nature and scandalous behavior. Welcome, Gendry, to our family, I invite you to come to Storm’s End, your ancestral home, if you have the inclination.”

Sansa and Arya found Gendry weeping on a bench outside Maegor’s Holdfast, and between sobs told the sisters, “Three years ago I was a lonely orphan, thankful for the pity of my Master, Tobho Mott. Then I was welcomed by your lord father to make a home at Winterfell, and now I suddenly have two uncles and a cousin, who, without reservation, have accepted me as family.” Wiping his snotty nose on his sleeve and sniffling, he continued, “I could never imagine being so happy!”

Both girls kissed the passionate boy on his cheeks, and Arya squeezed his arm and said, “You deserve it.”

Gendry turned his red and weepy eyes on them and kissed them lightly on the lips, confessing, “And I love both of you!”

Sansa looked unsure, but Arya smirked, “Aye, Stark maidens are irresistible to Baratheon men. It is a family trait.”

Gendry took Sansa’s fancy handkerchief and wiped his eyes and blew his nose, muttering, “I must go wash my face. I am so embarrassed and don’t want anyone to see me like this. I must be a repulsive sight!”

“On the contrary, Gendry,” Sansa smiled, “You look fine, and have only endeared yourself even more to my sister and me.” Arya nodded in agreement.

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Arya and Lyanna Mormont – Getting to Know You, Getting to Know All about You

Arya happened to encounter Lyanna Mormont in the practice yard. Both girls appraised the other warily, like rivals, even circling each other. Lyanna said a bit sarcastically at first, “Everyone tells me that I look like you. Now I finally get to meet the illustrious Arya Stark. I can see the similarities. You are a little taller, and we both have chestnut hair, although mine is wavier. Your lips are fuller and your eyes larger; too, I’ll give you that. I may have been given your aunt’s name, but you have her fabled beauty.”

Noncommittally, Arya replied, “I hear it all the time, that I look like my aunt.”

Lyanna continued with a smile, “All right, your features may be prettier, but my breasts are bigger and so are my hips. My figure is more curvaceous than yours, the boys all notice that!”

“My man is quite satisfied with the size of my breasts. I am not jealous of yours,” the wolf girl countered, dismissively.

“Well, my man says that large-breasted girls are the best!” Lyanna paused for a moment and then queried, “I see that you carry a sword. Do you spar?”

“Some,” Arya replied in a bored tone, not letting on that she was a blooded warrior, and asked, “Would you like to trade a few strokes?”

“Aye, I would like to get the measure of you,” Lyanna retorted with a bit of a challenge in her voice.

They chose some wooden short swords, formally tapped their blades first, and then, each surprising the other, attacked furiously. The master-at-arms on duty became anxious, wondering if he should intercede, as the two girls appeared to be actually trying to hurt each other. Neither Arya nor Lyanna let up; Arya having the advantage in finesse and speed, but Lyanna was stronger, and her blows hurt when she connected. They were both sweaty and panting when they put up their swords after fighting to a standoff after two hours, admitting only that exhaustion stayed their hands.

After sparring, the girls had a new respect for each other, and shook hands, and Lyanna said, “Well met!” Arya nodded and replied, “Let’s go to the steam baths and relax our weary muscles. We will be able to chat, and you can tell me what you think of Winterfell and my family and fill me in on what I have missed.” Lyanna nodded.

When they arrived at the baths, Arya told the guard to bar entry to any visitors, especially males. As they undressed in the warm chamber, the girls inspected each other’s body with frank curiosity. Lyanna was shy at first, but tried to relax, knowing that Arya had become comfortable with nudity in Dorne. Arya was the first to speak, “You were not japing! Your breasts are certainly large for a girl your size.”

Lyanna smiled, “I told you so. Yours look nice, even if they are smaller.”

Arya had moved closer and now asked, “May I touch them?”

Lyanna hesitated, not expecting that request, and slowly affirmed, “All right.”

Arya gently cupped Lyanna’s breasts with her hands, squeezing very, very gently. She raised her eyes and casually said, “They feel heavy! You have a nice build. I’ll wager that my sister Sansa is jealous of you.”

That remark startled Lyanna, and she replied, “Um, thank you! But I don’t think that Sansa is jealous of me!” The she-bear was even more surprised when Arya dipped her head and took one of Lyanna’s breasts in her mouth and tongued the teat as she lightly pinched the other one. Lyanna’s eye’s widened and she exclaimed, “Oh!” The next surprise was that she really liked the feeling of Arya kissing her breast and realized that she was becoming damp between her legs.

At Lyanna’s disconcerted response, Arya looked up and said, “I am sorry if I alarmed you, should I stop?”

Before she could even think, Lyanna blurted out, “Nae! Please continue!”

Arya grinned, “I thought not,” and continued to lavish attention on Lyanna’s breasts until the girl was moaning and had to sit down on a bench as her head fell back and her eyes closed. The she-bear recalled Sansa and Jeyne discussing how Arya was learning the art of love from Dornish libertines, and knew how to pleasure both men _and_ women. Lyanna felt vaguely guilty for enjoying Arya’s ministrations, but could not find the will to ask her to leave off. Then she felt Arya’s free hand on her mound, which gave her a thrill, and as she emitted another moan, realized that Arya’s fingers were moving inside her, massaging her passage.

Lyanna’s mind was losing focus and all she could think about was that a huge surge of pleasure and wetness, emanating out of her center, was taking control of her body, and all of a sudden she felt an intense sense of release and relief, and her body relaxed, her channel throbbing around Arya’s fingers. When she felt her consciousness return, she opened her eyes and saw Arya inches from her face, gazing at her with a broad smile. With blinking eyes and a dazed expression, all the she-bear could utter was, “Whaaa?”

The young Sand Snake grinned and replied, “You almost bested me with your sword, and that doesn’t happen often. I thought that you deserved a reward.”

“That was some reward!” Lyanna exclaimed, as it became clearer what had just happened to her.

“I am delighted that I made a good impression,” Arya replied, kissed her lightly on the lips, and slid into the steaming pool, “Now come, your muscles _really_ need relaxing now.”

Lyanna obeyed, and as she slipped into the soothing water, thought, _Sansa said that her sister was unusual, but she has no idea how right she was!_

Arya was still looking at her new friend with affection and said with a wink, “By the way, Lyanna, if you would like a repeat performance, just ask anytime. And if _you_ would like apply the technique, I wouldn’t refuse.”

Arya started to massage Lyanna’s shoulders and spoke again, “I have to introduce you to my Sand Snake sister, Sarra Martell.”

The she-bear looked wary, “Sansa has told me about Sarra.”

“Whatever she said, don’t believe it, you will like her.”

Lady Catelyn saw them walking together later and said, “Arya, Lyanna, I am glad you have met. Since both of you girls are most interested in swordplay, I thought that you would like each other.”

Arya, with the most innocent expression that she could muster, took hold of Lyanna’s arm, turned to her mother and replied lightly, “Aye, mother, Lady Lyanna and I have become fast friends!” Lyanna gave a small start, but Lady Catelyn was not aware that Arya’s other hand had squeezed the she-bear’s arse at that moment.

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The Stark Party Settles In

The Starks, like other families present in the Red Keep, planned to stay in King’s Landing until the wedding. The youths now had lots of free time, as there were not enough maesters to hold classes for everyone on a regular schedule. Sansa, as previously, organized the maidens into a sewing group, and she also started another ‘culture club’ to include the boys. As expected, Adrian and Artos joined, and Aegon came as often as he could. To Arya’s annoyance, Margaery Tyrell and Ned Dayne, sharing Sansa’s interest for the romantic arts, joined also. Sansa discovered that she had much in common with Margaery and got along wonderfully with the older girl, and the boys were all mesmerized by their beauty. Even more annoying was that Margaery excelled at embroidery, and was as well-versed in romantic literature, poetry, and music as Sansa, and they became close friends.

A problem arose one day when Gendry was present. Lady Margaery sidled up to the handsome smith, took his arm, and said with a fetching smile that usually ensnared any young man, “You are an intriguing lad, soon-to-be Gendry Baratheon, and I would like to get to know you better.” Gendry blushed and made an awkward excuse to politely get away.

Later, when they were alone, Sansa firmly told Margaery that Gendry was hers, and if she approached him again, she would scratch her eyes out, adding, “I am a wolf, too, and have fangs,” looking more menacing than she ever had in her life.

Lady Margaery backed off, replying, “I understand, I won’t flirt with him again.” Margaery later found Theon to be interesting and flirted with him. Theon automatically flirted back, but Margaery could see that he was not really interested. Later she learned that Lyanna Mormont considered Theon to be her property. Then she thought that Ned Dayne appealed to her but gossip informed her that Sarra Martell had her eyes on him. Margaery was weary. _All the best boys are claimed! Who should I focus on?_ she pondered.

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In contrast to Sansa, Arya formed a ‘sparring club’, and Lyanna, Robb, and Theon often joined her in the practice yard. Gendry was a frequent visitor, and Arya once again took to improving his technique. The wolf girl was amused by Lyanna’s characterization of Gendry as a big, cute, friendly puppy dog. She told Lyanna that despite his size and strength, Gendry did not have the natural aggression required by a skilled swordsman, and they needed to goad him to fight with more ferocity.

Both Lyanna and Arya constantly teased Gendry, as they loved to see the innocent smith blush and stammer. They thought he looked so cute when he was flustered, and they also hoped that Sansa would hear about it and get annoyed with them. However, Sansa _was_ aware that Arya and Lyanna flirted with Gendry, but she reckoned that the younger girls were no threat and ignored them.

While sparring one hot afternoon, Arya casually invited Gendry to join Lyanna and her in the steam baths afterwards, and she would massage his sore muscles. Lyanna waggled her eyebrows, leaned closer, and murmured, “I would _love_ to have you massage _me_.”

Gendry’s face colored as he realized the little vixens were inviting him to get naked with them in the baths, and he muttered, “That would be highly inappropriate!” but the concept so inflamed his imagination that he could not fall asleep that night and had to go to the small forge in the Red Keep and pound metal until he was exhausted.

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Prince Aegon had enjoyed participating in Sansa’s ‘culture club’ in Harrenhal, and when he was able to find a respite from his duties as the future monarch, he would attend the gatherings. Arya had actually attended this day because Aegon had invited her to come. She had even gone to the kitchens first and brought a tray of lemon cakes with her. Sansa gave her a big smile and welcomed her usually uncouth little sister. When Margaery saw Arya enter, she made a hostile expression, and Arya mouthed the word ‘ _cow_ ’ at her, to which Margaery mouthed back ‘ _harlot_ ’. Arya thought, _I would slap her snotty face if it would not embarrass Aegon!_

The prince’s artistic talent was exceptional, and when he read a poem, played his harp, or sang a familiar song, or even one he had personally written, the girls wept and even the young men wiped their eyes. All the youths were affected by his emotions and marveled at his gifts.

Lady Margaery was the first to recover after one particularly touching ballad, and, dabbing her glistening eyes with a delicate linen handkerchief, perfectly embroidered with a red rose, put her hand on his forearm and said with admiration, “Your grace, you have a genius for the arts like no one else I know. We are all enraptured!”

Aegon responded, “Lady Arya Stark, my betrothed, is the wellspring for my inspiration. She embodies the warrior women of yore. When I gaze at her, I see Queen Nymeria of the ten thousand ships, conquering Dorne. There is no other woman for me!” He looked at his love and smiled broadly. All the girls sighed at his romantic words.

When Aegon bent his head to tune his harp, Margaery shot Arya a dirty look, and Arya stuck out her tongue, thinking, _Take that, bitch!_ Later, when Arya had an opportunity to walk past Margaery, she whispered, “Moooo!” and felt particularly pleased. Later, Aegon told her, “I hope I did not embarrass you,” to which the she wolf replied, “Nae, I enjoyed myself.”

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Arya was fascinated by the Red Keep and had to explore it. She encouraged Lyanna and Gendry to join her in dressing as ordinary squires and went to the stables and kitchens, helping out and making friends. It didn’t take long for the smallfolk to discover their true identities, but they didn’t say anything. They went into the dungeons and found the chamber of dragon skulls, admiring the frightening structures of black bone, that still seemed to feel warm, with teeth sharp enough to cut a carelessly placed hand.

At the stables, Arya proudly introduced Lyanna and Gendry to Vhagar, her graceful chestnut sand steed. Lyanna, being a Northern girl, had been riding since she could walk, and stroked Vhagar’s flanks, exclaiming, “Arya! What a beautiful horse! I have never seen its like!”

Generously, Arya replied, “We will go riding, and I will let you ride my mare.”

“Thank you!” the she-bear replied, her eyes glowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The stage has been set for the double coronation.


	62. A Double Coronation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the hiatus. I have been busy and this was going to be a long chapter, anyway. A lot happens here: A government is forming, Arya and Lyanna are becoming dangerous together, Aegon gets a dragon, there is a double coronation, a betrothal announcement, and a celebration, and Sarra and Ned Dayne become ‘friends’.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 62 A Double Coronation

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As the date of the coronation approached, Aegon and Daenerys were kept very busy. Preparing for the ritual itself had them visiting the High Septon often, and they spent many hours in the throne room greeting their liege lords as they continually arrived in King’s Landing for the festivities. The lords described conditions in their lands, and asked for justice concerning grievances with their neighbors. Arguments about fiefdom boundaries gave the royals headaches, and that was one topic that Aegon, Dany, and Lord John wished would just go away.

Arya had a busy schedule, spending her mornings with classroom lessons, and afternoons with weapons training. She dedicated her time to staying sharp with water dancing, knife and spear work, the shortsword and shield, and two shortswords. Ser Rolly, Bokko, and Lady Nym worked with her a regular basis, and she sparred daily with Lyanna at shortswords to improve both their endurance, speed, and agility. Also, the two energetic young girls simply enjoyed whacking at each other with sticks.

She usually met with Aegon, Lord Jon, Lady Nym, and Sarra at the evening meal and was informed on the ongoing politics and preparations for the coronation. Occasionally Daenerys and other leaders joined them to discuss issues in a more informal setting. Several nights a week, Arya had dinner with her family and learned about Winterfell, and her siblings pumped her for more details about her voyage and experiences in Dorne. She had been amazed when she met her ‘baby brother’ Rickon, who now had eight namedays and had begun demanding that he be allowed to begin training at swords. Lady Catelyn had not given her permission yet, as she still saw her youngest child as a wee babe, and would not relent. The older youths knew that the she-wolf had engaged in some activities during her travels that would upset her parents, so Arya had to be guarded and not reveal too much, even though Sansa, Robb, and Theon grinned at her and tried to trick her into blurting out something embarrassing.

There was shocked silence around the table when she described the battle of the roseroad and how she killed a knight in full plate armor, and her family looked upon her with increased respect. Arya had shown them the fortune in gold dragons she had received from the knight’s family as ransom for his bones, armor, weapons, and destrier. Ned thought, _Arya looks like an innocent little girl, yet she is a blooded warrior!_

When the Stark siblings sat at a lower table away from the adults, Catelyn observed her mischievous younger daughter japing and initiating food fights, and exchanging suggestive remarks with Theon, her eyes flashing with humor. Lady Stark considered, _It is hard to believe that it is my tomboy daughter whose wedding we are planning, and for all her unladylike behavior, she will become a queen! The gods work in mysterious ways!_

After dinner, Arya had the opportunity to indulge in private time with Aegon. As it was common knowledge that their betrothal was to be announced at the coronation, no fuss was raised about the girl spending evenings in the prince’s chambers without any chaperone except for Ser Rolly outside the door. They helped each other with homework, discussed their day, and cuddled, which sometimes led to more intimate behavior, but since they saw each other on a daily basis now, their relationship had evolved past the urgent necessity to nightly perform the ‘couple’s kiss’ until they were exhausted. Often they would fall asleep in each other’s arms, and Aegon would have to walk her back to her chambers in the wee hours of the night. Lady Nym, Sarra, and Arya still enjoyed sharing quarters together, and all were aware that their pleasant ‘sisterhood’ would soon come to an end.

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While Aegon, Dany, and Sarra were totally occupied with the endless affairs of state, the other youths had time for more pleasant activities. Horses were available for riding and members of Sansa’s ‘culture club’ planned picnics.

Sansa’s sewing circle and culture club had expanded in King’s Landing. It now included the girls from the North, young ladies of the Crownlands, and Margaery Tyrell’s numerous cousins from the Reach. Theon often attended the ‘culture club’, drawn by the abundance of pretty girls.

Lessons continued for the young people. Arya, Aegon, Sarra, and Ned Dayne already had defined educational plans, and Maester Luwin had sent instructions for the Winterfell youths. Half-maester Haldon had far too many students to hold regular lessons all day long, so he assigned independent studies to some of the youths because the Red Keep’s library was probably the best outside the Citadel.

Maester Haldon complained to Lord Jon and Lady Nym about the youths’ obvious preoccupation with lovemaking, grumbling that there were too many distracting romances in the castle. The amorous Sand Snake objected by quoting the philosopher-maester Bertrand Russell, who said “It would be better for them to have sex, because then they could give their undivided attention to mathematics, which is the main thing.” Lady Nym added with a smirk, “If you like, I would volunteer to direct a seminar on sexuality to dispel myths and prevent accidental babes.” Haldon muttered that it might be a good idea.

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With both Aegon and Sarra busy, Arya spent more time with her new friend, Lyanna Mormont. Arya and Lyanna continued to spar frequently and furiously, which led them to soothing massage sessions in the steam baths afterwards to relieve their aching muscles. The wolf girl would usually initiate the process by massaging Lyanna’s shoulders, and at some point reach around her torso to massage her breasts, a practice that Lyanna began to anticipate and enjoy. After a few sessions, the she-bear started to return Arya’s attention, and she gained confidence as she massaged Arya’s shoulders and bosom. Arya told her that massage was part of their training, as the practice made their hands and forearms stronger. Arya had even taught Lyanna the ‘Princess Xena and Gabrielle tickling game’ while in the steam baths, which only brought them closer.

The second day that they found themselves in the baths after sparring, as Arya massaged her friend’s shoulders, she asked, “Lya, it is obvious that my man is Prince Aegon, but which of the Winterfell boys is yours? I know it can’t be Gendry, and I doubt that it is Robb, so who is he?”

Lyanna replied, “My mother suggested to Lady Stark that Theon Greyjoy would be a good match for me, and your mother said that she would consider exploring that possibility, Ary. I met Theon and we have much in common. I like kissing him, but he is such a flirt, and refuses to commit himself yet.”

Arya exclaimed, “Theon a flirt! That is an understatement! Do you know that when I had only ten namedays and he was teaching me archery, he would put his arms around me and murmur the most suggestive comments you could imagine into my ears! If Mother or Robb had heard him, they would have punished him for his impertinence!”

The she-bear nodded, “Aye, I can imagine that. Even now he spends his afternoons in Sansa’s solar flirting with _all_ the girls, even that witch, Margaery Tyrell! He admits that he is very fond of me, but does not want to stop whoring or fooling around. Well, I don’t care! If he is going to be that way, I will just continue kissing boys until he decides to settle down!”

“Actually, maybe it was a good thing that Theon flirted with me when I was so young, Lya” Arya mused, “at the time, Sansa and Jeyne were merciless in criticizing me and being mean. If Theon had not given me attention, I might have been convinced that I really was ugly and worthless. Those girls were awful and they really hurt me!”

“Well, you are prettier than either of them, and you are going to marry the prince, Ary!” Lyanna replied as she squeezed Arya’s arm, “so you can laugh in their faces now!”

Arya kissed the back of Lyanna’s neck to show her appreciation for her support, and said, “Aye, Jeyne wouldn’t cross me now, and my sister is much more respectful to me.”

She paused and added, “As for your problem, I think I know a way to bind Theon to you. I’ll explain later and you can tell me if you approve.”

One afternoon after sparring, as Arya massaged Lyanna’s shoulders, she leaned in and started to pepper the back of her neck and throat with gentle butterfly kisses and worked her way up to the area behind her ear, and then drew her tongue around the shell of her ear as Sarra had taught her.

Lyanna gave a start and felt a thrill that went through her body right down to her private place between her legs and she exclaimed, “Oh!” Impulsively, she spun in Arya’s arms and gifted her with a sudden deep tongue kiss. Arya was delighted and returned the kiss passionately, using the opportunity to explore Lyanna’s body with her hands. The she-bear felt as if she was on fire, and they kissed until their mouths were tired. Afterwards, Lyanna thought, _I like kissing boys, but I think I like kissing Arya too! That was so much fun!_

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Adrian and Artos came to spar one afternoon, to the surprise of both girls. Squire Adrian admitted that they really wanted to improve their skill with swords, but the older and larger boys only abused them in the training yard. Adrian mentioned how Arya had challenged him at Harrenhal and he really respected her techniques. Lyanna had advised him at Winterfell, and both boys felt the dedicated female fighters could help them spar better. The warrior women looked at each other and nodded, thinking it would be fun to train them, as it would be a change in their usual routine. Arya worked with Adrian, and Lyanna crossed swords with Artos, and they spent a pleasant, although exhausting afternoon in the yard. The boys learned about footwork and parrying, and the girls seriously educated them, rather than just trying to pound them into the ground. The boys responded with a renewed effort and were grateful for their guidance.

At one point, Arya could not help but tease Adrian, saying, “Jeyne will probably be wroth with you for spending so much time with us.”

The squire reddened and mumbled, “I have broken with Jeyne Poole, my lady.”

The shocked she-wolf lowered her sword, and replied, “For true, Squire Adrian?”

“Aye,” the lad explained, looking intently at Arya, “You once pointed out how she had a mean streak, and when she cruelly insulted Lady Shireen Baratheon, I found that my affection for her had waned.”

“Oh my,” Arya said, “I have to say that I approve. I have never liked her,” and she raised her sword to continue sparring.

The wolf girl was wearing her favorite sparring outfit, as she was dressed in her tunic that had been trimmed into a small halter top, her butchered breeches, plus the short skirt that provided a limited amount of modesty. She had noticed that as they sparred, the boys could not help but admire her exposed flesh and Lyanna’s figure. It was obvious that both boys were captivated by the two maidens.

During a short break, when Adrian and Artos went to the water barrel, Arya whispered, “Lya, Those boys are so in love with us that we should have some fun with them!”

Lyanna liked games as much as Arya and replied, “What should we do? If we invited them to the steam baths, that would only lead to scandal! I know! Let’s suggest a massage session, Ary! I’ll wager they would like that!”

Arya grinned, “Aye, that would be fun! Let’s tease them. We will only let them kiss us a little.” She turned to the boys and told them, “Let’s spar for only one more sequence and then stop. We are all getting tired and massaging our weary muscles would be a good way to end the lesson.”

The boys eyes widened and they looked at each other. Adrian agreed, “That sounds like a good idea.”

When the last session was done, they replaced their practice swords in the rack, and Arya directed them to a seldom-visited room in the armory where rusty weapons were stored. Wiping the dust off two adjacent benches, she told the boys to sit down. Arya sat behind Adrian, and Lyanna sat behind Artos, and the girls started to massage the boys’ shoulders with sufficient force to really be effective. It felt so good that the boys moaned with delight. Skillfully, the girls extended their effort from their clavicles, to their spines, and upper arms.

Soon Arya announced, “All right, it’s our turn!” and she spun around on the bench and tossed her braid over her shoulder. Lyanna did likewise and gathered her loose tresses and brought them over one shoulder. Arya distinctly heard the boys gulp as they proceeded to place their hands on the girls’ shoulders and start massaging. Arya let herself visibly relax and started to pretend to moan with pleasure, as if she was becoming aroused, and Lyanna copied her actions, suppressing a giggle.

After Artos had been massaging Lyanna’s shoulders for a while, his hands wandered down her torso and soon he was nearly cupping her breasts. She silently replaced his hands back on her shoulders, and he continued the massage. Adrian’s hands also started to slide down Arya’s sides, and when he touched the soft outside curves of her breasts, she allowed him to fondle her bosom once and then shifted out of his reach. At that point, Arya spun around on the bench and made eye contact with the flushed youth. She smiled shyly and murmured, “I suppose you want to kiss me,” and leaned a little closer. Adrian gulped again and pressed his lips against those of the girl he had been fantasizing about for more than two years. Arya returned the kiss but did not open her mouth, keeping it fairly chaste. When his hand began to stroke her bare thigh, she wordlessly moved it around her back, and Adrian embraced her as they kissed. At that point she parted her lips slightly and the tips of their tongues touched. Adrian felt like he had died and gone to heaven.

Out of the corner of her eye, Arya could see that Lyanna had followed suit, but she was pressing her breasts against Artos’ chest and was giving him a deep tongue kiss. The boy was so paralyzed with surprise that his hands hung loosely by his sides within her embrace. Arya kissed and hugged Adrian for some time, giving the boy a taste of his dreams, and then gently broke the kiss, leaned back, and announced, “All right, it’s time to change partners!”

Adrian looked confused, as did Artos, who was startled at the sound of her voice and had looked over at her, and Adrian blurted out, “What?!”

Arya looked at him innocently, “Don’t you want to kiss Lyanna, Adrian?”

“Well, yes, I do!” he sputtered.

“Off with you, then!” she replied, and pushed him away.

Lyanna smiled at Adrian as he approached, and his expression was hopeful and excited. He gazed at her with obvious affection and gently stroked her wavy chestnut hair. Lyanna’s eyes twinkled and she inquired with a grin, “Adrian, are you still having amorous dreams about me?”

Adrian blushed, but admitted truthfully, “Aye, thoughts of you disturb my sleep, my lady.”

“Well,” the bold she-bear replied with a chuckle, “I shall contribute to your night time fantasies,” and she took hold of his hands and positioned them properly to squeeze her breasts just once before bringing them around her back to initiate an embrace. Then she drew him in closely for a deep kiss and treated him as she had treated young Artos, and the boy moaned as he surrendered himself to the she-bear’s ardor. Lyanna decided to be a little naughtier and at one point stroked the inside of his thigh, but gently removed his hand when he copied her gesture.

Artos sat down in front of Arya with wet lips and an expression of expectant confusion, and she decided to continue what Lyanna had started, pressing herself against him, gripping his back, and sliding her tongue into his mouth. Artos moaned and went limp in her arms, and at first she thought he had fainted, but then his tongue started to wrestle with hers, and she responded with conviction.

As Adrian and Lyanna kissed, the Northern girl released a series of manufactured moans of pleasure, and heard Arya copying her, cruelly making her moans sound even more urgent. By subtly shifting their bodies, both girls became aware that their victims had become painfully aroused, and Lyanna thought, _Oh my, we really are a pair of evil cock teases! Strange, but I don’t feel guilty about it!_ She chuckled to herself, _Ary is a bad influence on me!_

At that point, Lyanna leaned back and said, “Well, that was nice, but Arya and I need to go freshen up for dinner now,” and she gently broke Adrian’s embrace. He was panting and looked thoroughly wilted. Arya did the same with Artos, but kissed him lightly on the lips before standing up. As their senses returned, the two dazed boys awkwardly regained their feet, restricted by the tenting in their breeches and moved like old men until they could think clearly.

As they were all leaving the storeroom, Arya stood in front of the boys and queried, “You are going to keep this _our_ secret, right? Otherwise, it may never happen again!” The boys nodded and said that they would tell no one. Arya smiled at them and continued, “Good! Now kiss our cheeks and tell us that you love us!” The enraptured youths obediently did as ordered and wandered back to their chambers to try to make sense of the afternoon, not at all believing that it had actually happened.

As Arya and Lyanna were locked in their usual embrace in the steam baths, discussing the afternoon’s activities, Lyanna giggled and accused, “Ary, you are so wicked! That was totally inappropriate! We should not have abused those poor boys like that!”

Arya just grinned, “Aye, you are so right! But wasn’t that fun, Lya?! I could not resist taking advantage of such sweet lads! The older boys always lord it over those two, and we gave them some memories they will always treasure! How can that be a bad thing?”

“But you are betrothed to the prince, and I am trying to dedicate myself to Theon!”

“Consider that we did not really affect our main relationships, and we did a good deed, Lya. Don’t you feel good?” the wolf princess rationalized.

“I suppose, but mayhaps it is best not to think too much. I do know that kissing them makes me want to kiss _you_ right now!” Lyanna followed through on her intentions, and they had some more fun before dinner.

Arya’s assessment was close to the target. Adrian and Artos had often felt inferior around the mature and larger boys, and they were virtually ignored by the older girls such as Sansa, Margaery, and the Manderly sisters, but at dinner that evening, they grinned and japed at each other, knowing that they had been kissing the two most desirable maidens in the castle, at least in their minds. Their self-confident manner and good humor were noticed by a few of Lady Margaery’s pretty and vivacious younger cousins, who were of an age with the two boys, and they found themselves japing with the charming maidens, and soon were no longer mooning about the unattainable Northern girls.

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One day Sarra came to the practice yard, and had the opportunity to meet Lyanna Mormont while she was sparring with Arya. Lord Jon had given her the afternoon off, as a scheduled appointment with a foreign emissary had been canceled. Lyanna inspected the young Sand Snake closely. She observed that Sarra was quite attractive in delicate, simmering silks and subtle makeup, and as striking as the other two older girls who had captured everyone’s attention. However, she was not as voluptuous as Margaery Tyrell, who Arya sneeringly called a ‘cow’, but had a graceful full figure, similar to Sansa Stark. Lady Sansa’s striking auburn hair and Tully blue eyes were greatly admired, but Sarra’s glossy black tresses and large brown eyes were just as captivating. Her features were also as lovely as Sansa’s, but indicated a higher intelligence, and her cheekbones as prominent as Margaery’s, but revealed a more mysterious and humorous nature. Lyanna resented the casual beauties, and was prepared to dislike Sarra, especially since Arya had named the Dornish girl her ‘Sand Snake sister’. As the she-bear spent more time with the wolf girl, she came to appreciate her adventurous attitude and the touch of her hands and mouth, and she could not help but look at Sarra as one would a rival.

Sarra nodded with a friendly smile and asked, “Would you like to spar?” and began to inspect the practice swords in the rack.

Lyanna replied, “Certainly.” They faced off and Lyanna came on hard at the larger girl, fighting with numerous powerful blows, thrusting constantly at different parts of Sarra’s body.

Sarra continued to smile and gracefully parried every lunge of the Northern girl, but made few attempts to return the onslaught. When she did though, she generally touched an arm or thigh, whereas Lyanna rarely landed a solid strike. At one point the young Sand Snake ventured, “My, you are strong, Lady Lyanna, but I should expect such force from one whose sigil is a bear.”

They continued to spar for quite a while, and Lyanna kept up the barrage. Eventually, sweat was dripping from her forehead and she was breathing heavily, yet her opponent barely revealed any sign of exertion. Suddenly Sarra made an evasive action that so surprised Lyanna that she hesitated for a brief moment, and the Sand Snake swiftly moved behind her and landed a powerful blow on the back of her knees, knocking her off balance and landing her on her back. In an instant, Sarra was straddling her and pressing her into the ground, and as she stared into Lyanna’s face from only inches away, Sarra demanded with flashing eyes, still smiling, “Do you yield?”

Lyanna was trapped beneath the older and larger girl and reluctantly answered, “I yield!”

“Good!” Sarra replied, and pressed a firm kiss on her lips, tonguing the outside of her mouth as well, and began to get up, putting out a hand to help Lyanna to her feet also, and continued, “We shall go to the steam baths to alleviate the soreness of our muscles and to get to know each other better.”

The three girls went to the baths and as they undressed, Lyanna and Sarra eyed each other with curiosity. Arya was familiar with both of them and was interested to see how they interacted. Both girls had full figures, especially compared to Arya, and appreciated each other’s form. Sarra was impressed by how mature Lyanna appeared, as she had three fewer namedays, and Lyanna understood why Sansa had said that Sarra had all the boys discombobulated at Harrenhal, especially Gendry. Lyanna made a mental note to ask Sarra about the handsome smith, who seemed to be nervous with all the girls except Sansa. Arya had told her that she had kissed Gendry, and would welcome another opportunity to repeat their tryst, and now the she-bear wondered if Sarra had had any more luck with the shy boy. She had to admit that she was intrigued with him, also.

Sarra invited Lyanna into the bath and immediately started to massage her shoulders, and as the she-bear suspected, it did not take long for the Sand Snake to begin to fondle the younger girl’s breasts and torso. She knew that Sarra had been one of Arya’s mentors in the erotic arts, and expected that the older girl would take it upon herself to explore the rest of her body, too. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Arya sitting naked on the edge of the baths, kicking the water and watching with a big smile on her face. Lyanna was surprised to notice that as Sarra’s hands wandered over her torso, the clever Dornish girl had begun to awaken sensitivity in locations that had never been so effectively been fondled before, and she became aware that a fire had begun to burn in her loins. It was obvious that Sarra was an expert in locating erogenous zones, and as her hand slid over Lyanna’s mound and plunged several fingers into her channel, she leaned back into Sarra’s body and moaned loudly.

Sarra had begun to kiss Lyanna’s neck, and as one hand massaged her center, the other was touching her elsewhere, stoking the fire in her center into a bonfire, and she soon experienced a violent orgasm, shouting, “Gods!” Lyanna turned in Sarra’s arms, kissed her, and said, “Thank you!”

Sarra only grinned and said, “I am not done yet,” and motioned for Lyanna to climb out of the water and sit on the edge of the bath. Sarra stayed below her in the bath and moved in to kiss the inside of the she-bear’s thighs, which she instantly parted at Sarra’s touch. Sarra kissed her way to Lyanna’s slit, molding her mouth to Lyanna’s lower lips, and when she slid her tongue inside her passage, Lyanna shouted again and gripped Sarra’s head. She pressed her groin against Sarra’s face, pulsating with pleasure, and as her enjoyment increased, she became aware that Arya was behind her, massaging her breasts and pinching her teats. The sensation was unbearable, and soon she experienced another intense orgasm, relaxing her grip on Sarra’s head, and falling back into Arya’s arms. When her mind cleared and she opened her eyes, both Sand Snakes were smiling at her and Sarra asked, “Did we please you, my lady?” Lyanna was unable to speak, but nodded her head vigorously.

The young Sand Snake added, “If Arya has not informed you of this practice, I have given you the ‘Lord’s Kiss’, and suggest that you should teach Theon how to do it. Of course, we will teach you the ‘Lady’s Kiss’, which will enhance your intimate time together.”

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Late one evening, as they cuddled in his bed, Arya said, “Aegon, it is time that you should choose a dragon, and become a dragonrider.” The next day they approached Daenerys, and Arya said to the dragon queen, “Dany, Aegon is one of the heads of the Targaryen dragon, and should claim one of the beasts.”

Daenerys looked at the she-wolf thoughtfully and replied, “Aye, Aegon may be a dragon, but methinks the wolf is more dangerous and forthright. The two of you comprise an interesting couple.” Then she laughed and added, “Actually, my bold wolf girl, the important question is ‘will a dragon accept Aegon?’ rather than the other way around.”

They rode on horseback to the Dragon Pit on Visenya’s Hill and drew near the dragons within. Drogon raised his head when he saw Dany, but eyed the other two suspiciously and would not approach them. However, Viserion and Rhaegal sniffed the air and looked curiously at Aegon and slowly crawled toward him, their evil-looking claws scratching the stone floor. When they were close to the prince, they obviously inhaled his scent, and if a dragon could smile, they appeared to do so.

Arya could not resist any longer and used her warg power to gently touch their minds. Instantly all three heads swiveled and gazed at her intently, but did not seem to be afraid or aggressive, only curious. Arya did not make direct eye contact, but looked sideways and spread out her open hands to demonstrate harmlessness, and formed a similar image in her mind’s eye. The dragons relaxed and turned their attention to Aegon again. The warg gently touched their minds again to observe their reaction to the prince, and her gut reaction made her blurt out, “Aegon, Rhaegal seems to favor you more than Viserion. Make eye contact and place your hand in front of his muzzle.”

Aegon gulped and asked, “Are you sure?”

The she-wolf nodded confidently and Aegon did as ordered. Rhaegal snorted quietly, prodded his hand, and lowered the shoulder closest to the prince. Aegon took a deep breath, and without any hesitation, rapidly climbed up on the green and bronze dragon’s scaly back, with Arya scrambling right behind him. Rhaegal swiveled his head around and looked sharply at Arya, but relaxed again and faced forward. The prince noticed there were long spines behind the dragon head that were ideal for grasping for support while riding.

Dany looked up at them, laughed, and shouted, “I am not surprised! I named Rhaegal after your father, and he is the calmest and friendliest of the three. Viserion’s namesake is my brother Viserys, and he is wary and temperamental. Nephew, try to make contact with Rhaegal and imagine flying.”

While the dragons were distracted, Arya was lingering at the borders of their minds, becoming familiar with the unusual brain of a rare beast. She had warged into a variety of creatures, but these dragons were very different than anything she had experienced. They were more intelligent than any other animal, and she could detect that they were also devious, dangerous, and always hungry for flesh. There was something else that she couldn’t understand; a kind of ‘shimmering’ around the boundaries of their consciousness, something elusive and ephemeral that she could not quite grasp. As a chill went down her spine, Arya thought, _Magic! I am actually sensing magic! Dragons are magical creatures! They are more unique and complex than ordinary animals!_

Arya reflected on this paradox. Magic and logical science should not exist together, yet Valerian swords were real and had magical properties and the monsters and undead creatures beyond the Wall were certainly magical, too. It was no wonder the maesters in Oldtown disliked dragons and wanted them all dead. Like the existence of the children of the forest and greenseers, the maesters could not explain dragons, and chose to reject them as impossible. The learned men were more comfortable in a world without magic and denied its existence. There was no way Arya would reject magic, having experienced it firsthand.

Rhaegal raised and lowered his wings, and Aegon nodded to his aunt, “I think he is aware of my thoughts.”

“Good!” Daenerys responded, and she tossed an unusual leather harness to him. “Attach this to the spines behind each eye and you will have reins as for a horse. Now imagine moving to the doors of the Pit and flying around King’s Landing.”

Rhaegal lurched toward the open gates, lumbering along while dragging his wings. As graceful as dragons appeared in the sky, they were particularly ungainly on the ground. Outside, he stretched out his neck and breathed deeply of the fresh air, then unfolded his enormous wings and spread them out. He raised them high and brought them down with a loud, “Whoomp!” almost deafening his riders, raised his wings again and repeated the action until he was airborne, creating clouds of dust around him. Once in the air, the dragon stretched out his head, body, and long spiked tail into a straight line, folded his taloned feet underneath his torso, and became a streamlined missile, cutting rapidly through the atmosphere.

As they rose above the city, Arya clutched Aegon’s waist tightly and shrieked excitedly above the noise of the beating wings, “We’re flying, we’re flying!” The buildings below them appeared as toys, the Red Keep as a child’s castle, and the citizens, many pointing up at them, as insects crawling on the ground. They flew in circles for about a half an hour, becoming comfortable with their mount, and letting Rhaegal get used to his passengers, finally returning to the Dragon Pit, landing lightly and gracefully.

Aegon and Arya tumbled off the dragon, chattering enthusiastically and holding hands, their eyes shining. Daenerys smiled at them, “I assume you enjoyed yourselves?” Incoherently and talking over each other, they replied to the dragon queen, and she understood what they meant. “Well, the dragon has two heads now, and we will have to wait to see who the third head is,” she mused as they led the dragon back to his lair and ordered the handlers to feed him.

They rode back to the Red Keep, and Ser Rolly maintained a worried expression. It was his job to keep the prince safe, and flying was completely beyond his control. He had no idea how he was to protect Aegon Dragonrider. Arya was staring at Aegon with wide, flashing eyes the whole way home, and after leaving the horses at the stable and walking back to the royal chambers, she ordered Duck to go get himself some refreshment, as she and the prince required some private time. Ser Rolly nodded and smiled to himself. He had experienced the passion of two Sand Snakes himself, and he thought, _My prince is in for it now!_

Arya locked the door behind them and immediately started to tear Aegon’s clothing off, then disrobing and feverishly flinging her own apparel to the far corners of the room. A perturbed prince asked, “Arya, what are you doing?!”

With a hungry, predatory expression and feral eyes, the wolf girl panted, “If I could only put into words how aroused I am after riding on the back of a dragon above the city, I would explain, but I can’t! I can only show you!” And with that she attacked him fiercely, throwing his naked body onto the bed and straddling him in the ‘couple’s kiss’ position, swallowing his cock and thrusting her damp center into his face. Aegon had no choice but to respond to her overtures, and in a few minutes he was as caught up in the emotions as she was, both lovers pulsating and moaning with pleasure. They soon reached a sweet release and Arya reversed her position to kiss Aegon on the lips and position his hands on her breasts, muttering, “Squeeze them! Pinch them!”

The prince was still breathing heavily when she began to stroke his member, and the moment she deemed him hard enough, the fervent she-wolf initiated another ‘couple’s kiss’, grinding her wet slit into his face again, insistently demanding attention. Gratification took longer to attain this time, but when it arrived, Arya loudly shouted her pleasure. Aegon was sure that her voice could have been heard far below in the kitchens. He thought that the ardent girl was satiated, but within minutes she was nibbling his earlobe and stroking the inside of his thigh, murmuring, “Bite my teats, hard!” and “Next time I want a more probing tongue!” Soon they were at it again, grunting with exertion. After their third paired orgasms, the prince was thoroughly exhausted, his chest was heaving, and when she shifted to nuzzle his throat, fondle his torso, and place his hands on her breasts again, he was afraid that he was spent and would have to admit his weakness. Even his mouth was tired.

But the ‘wolf princess’ gazed at him affectionately and contentedly, and sighed, “That was wonderful!” She closed her eyes and instantly fell into a sound sleep, cuddling herself on his chest. Aegon was relieved and embraced her, remembering that long ago Lord Jon had stated that Arya would be a difficult challenge for any boy foolish enough to fall in love with her. He sighed and wondered, _I hope I am up to it!_ At that moment, Duck poked his head in the door, and ignoring the naked, snoring maiden sprawled over his body, smiled and entered, “Here, I brought you a cold drink and some smoked chicken breast. I reckoned you would need some sustenance.”

Aegon thanked his sworn shield and pulled a blanket over the sleeping girl’s lovely arse and body. Then he looked with worried, trusting eyes at the knight. “Ser Rolly, will it always be thus?”

Duck grinned widely, “Aye, the she-wolf will always be demanding, but I advise you to meet her needs. Every soldier in the combined armies envies you, I can assure you.”

The prince nodded, recalling Ser Rolly chained to General Obara’s bed, “I will try.”

The knight grinned with mischief in his eyes and continued, “But if you find that you are not _up_ to the challenge…..”

Aegon eyes narrowed and he warned, “Don’t say it!”

Rolly ignored him and japed, “you can always call in Ned Dayne to finish the job!”

At that, the prince grabbed the nearest item at hand, which unfortunately was Arya’s sopping wet smallclothes, and threw them into Duck’s face.

“Ha!” Ser Rolly laughed, throwing the intimate apparel back at him, “Don’t involve me in your romantic troubles! Oh, it looks like your lady is awakening! Better get to work!” and he slid out the door, still chuckling.

Arya was waking up, and looked at the prince with half-opened, but expectant eyes and a big smile. _Well, I hope that I can do this!_ Aegon thought, and returned her smile.

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Coronation Day finally arrived, and the royals, their entourage, and vassals all traveled by wheelhouse from the Red Keep to the Great Sept of Baelor on the Hill of Rhaenys. The square in front of the sept was crammed full of smallfolk, both residents of the city and visitors from near and far. Appropriate crowns had been found in the Royal Treasury for the occasion, decorated with intertwined golden dragons. The Keeper of the Treasury was an old man, originally a Targaryen retainer, and had fiercely resisted removal of any heirlooms when Littlefinger came to strip the vault of its money, as King Robert had wasted all of it.

The High Septon was waiting at the top of the steps, and he was to administer the Royal Oaths in front of all assembled there. Aegon and Daenerys approached him and knelt before him, their faces turned downward. The entourage witnessed the ceremony from the steps below the royal pair.

In a loud, but high-pitched voice, the High Septon pompously spoke, “Do you solemnly promise and swear to govern the Peoples of the Kingdoms of Westeros according to their respective laws and customs?”

“I solemnly promise to do so,” both Targaryens gravely replied.

“Do you solemnly promise and swear to preserve and defend the Peoples of the Kingdoms of Westeros from foreign influence, threats, and danger?”

“I solemnly promise to do so.”

“Do you solemnly promise and swear to deal with all the Peoples of the Kingdoms of Westeros with equity as suggested by law, and to dispense justice with mercy, love, and compassion?”

“I solemnly promise to do so.”

“Do you solemnly promise and swear to promote the welfare of the Peoples of the Kingdoms of Westeros and strive to improve their overall quality of life?”

“I solemnly promise to do so.”

The Oaths had been elaborately written on a large sheet of parchment, and a small table, complete with an inkpot and goose feather quills, was placed in front of the royals. Aegon and Daenerys signed their names to the parchment, and the High Septon held it up for liege lords, vassals, and smallfolk to see. Then he placed the crowns on their heads and declared, “As the High Septon of Westeros, I pronounce you, Aegon and Daenerys, the legitimate rulers of Westeros. May the Seven bless you and favor your rule. Stand and face your subjects.”

The new king and queen stood, turned around, and bowed to the witnesses, then they straightened up, grasped each other’s hand and raised them high, while smiling down at the audience. A loud roar of approval was heard, and their names were shouted over and over again. The wheelhouse returned the royal party to the Red Keep, and, as tradition demanded, bread was distributed to the smallfolk that filled the white marble plaza at the base of the steps of the Great Sept.

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As the highborns gathered for the celebration in the Great Hall of the Red Keep, the royals assured their liege lords that the oaths are not just wind – even though the coronation took place at the Great Sept, other religions would not be slighted, but would carry the same respect as the Seven.

Before dinner was served, a blushing Arya, dressed in shimmering Dornish silk robes, and surrounded by her smiling family and closest friends, joined King Aegon and Queen Daenerys on the high dais, and Lord Jon signaled for the guards to pound their spears on the floor to gain the crowd’s attention. Aegon and Arya held hands, entwined their fingers and looked as self-conscious and embarrassed as children caught with a stolen sweet treat. When there was silence, Lord Jon spoke, “I would like to take this opportunity to announce the betrothal of King Aegon Targaryen, sixth of his name, to Lady Arya Stark of Winterfell, younger daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, Warden of the North. The wedding will take place on Lady Arya’s ten and fourth nameday, which will arrive in one month’s time. I offer a toast to the health of the King and his future bride!” Aegon and Arya shared a chaste kiss, and goblets were raised as the witnesses joined in the toast, some adding ribald comments and calling for the bedding and heirs to the throne to be conceived as soon as possible.

Ned, Catelyn, Nymeria, and Jon had agreed that it would be unseemly for the youths to wed _before_ Arya’s fourteenth birthday, regardless of their perceived intimate behavior. Dany was consulted and had smirked, “I was wed to my khal when I had only ten and three namedays and no one was concerned about my age or that he was a huge man with about thirty namedays.” But she added sadly at the memory, “By _my_ fourteenth nameday, I was already with child.”

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There were many toasts during the feast, some for the new king and queen, some for the betrothed couple, and the Arbor Gold flowed continuously. Musicians played and the guests danced all evening. The betrothed couple led the dancers to the floor following dinner, including Ned and Catelyn Stark, Jon Connington and Lady Nym, Lyanna Mormont and Theon Greyjoy, and Sansa and Gendry. There were a few new couples for the wags to gossip about: Robb Stark and Shireen Baratheon shared shy glances as they gracefully twirled, and an animated Adrian Byrch bounced around with a giggling Megga Tyrell. Observers would notice that an uncomfortable Margaery Tyrell was in the unyielding grip of the odious whoremaster, Littlefinger, whose evil smile was disconcerting.

Sarra and Ned had been partaking of the delicious wine, and both were in good spirits. Lord Dayne took the initiative and asked the lovely Dornish girl to dance. They relaxed and chatted in a friendly manner and as her custom, Sarra casually flirted with him. Finally, Sarra stared into his eyes and asked, “Ned, I ask you seriously, do you want me?” He could not disguise the lustful expression that appeared on his face, and she took his hand, saying, “Come with me.”

The young couple left the Great Hall and retired to his pavilion, where they began to kiss earnestly for the first time, aware that their intimacy was most likely going to lead to something more intense. As they embraced, tangled tongues, and exchanged butterfly kisses, Ned murmured into her throat, “I _do_ like you, Sarra, and I like kissing you.”

She responded to his words by dropping her silk robes, exposing her luxurious breasts. Ned marveled at the sight, as they were perfectly round and topped with coin-sized pink teats that came to a point as he touched the globes. Her bosom was not as large as Lady Nym’s full womanly figure, but larger than Arya’s shapely but modest curves, and he reflected that all three girls had perfect proportions.

Ned lavished his attention on her breasts for a while, fondling and pinching, kissing, biting and sucking, as Sarra began to moan with pleasure. Finally, he released her torso and begged, “Let me look at you.” She was wearing very sheer and lacy smallclothes, and he said, “Those look familiar.”

Sarra laughed, “Aye, Arya has often borrowed them, but they fit me better,” and twirled around to demonstrate. He smiled and remembered that Arya looked cute in them as they hung loosely on her smaller frame, but on Sarra, they fit snuggly, tight against the globes of her perfect arse. As she faced him again, he saw that her mound even presented a small bulge against the material, which was sheer enough to reveal the darkness of her curls. He felt a stirring in his own smallclothes and realized that he desired her. She loosened her laces and let the smallclothes slide down her legs, standing before him gloriously nude.

Young Lord Ned gasped, “You are exquisite! If I were a sculptor, I would carve your image in marble and call it ‘Beauty Incarnate’!”

Sarra blushed, “Stop! Your praise will make me needlessly vain, and I don’t need that! Now let’s get back to business!” Ned looked inquisitive but confused.

Sarra purred, “Ned, I have desired your Lord’s Kiss ever since Arya first described how skillful you are! I have not had the touch of a man since the Water Gardens, and I have been dreaming of your head between my thighs for far too long! I am not going to wait another minute!” The amorous Sand Snake had truly been celibate waiting for him, which was enough to drive her mad, and she had run out of patience. She dropped back on the bed, opening her legs, and demanded in a husky voice, “Come to me now!”

Ned obliged and fell to his knees to inspect her inviting center, murmuring, “You are as lovely as a summer rose.” He moved in to pleasure her slit with lips, tongue, and one hand, while the other fondled her breasts. Sarra closed her eyes, enjoying the intimate attention and pulsated against his mouth. After a few minutes, she began to reflect, _Arya was right! He is very skilled! It would be wonderful to end every evening like this!_ Ned brought her to a slow, satisfying orgasm, and then as she sighed and relaxed, he looked up with dripping lips, relishing the contented expression on her face, and asked with a smile, “Did I please you, my lady?”

Sarra replied, “Aye, I would enjoy having your tongue inside me every day! Now stand up!” He obeyed and she sat up to push his robes off of his torso, noticing the tenting in his smallclothes. “Oh my, what have we here?” she asks rhetorically, as she unlaced the item of clothing and slid them down his legs. Sarra inspected his package and liked what she saw; his erect member had an impressive length and thickness, and she thought how it would fill her and fit snugly, which made her even more excited. Then she asked, “Ned, are you a maiden?”

The lad blushed and admitted his innocence, and she replied, “At least the first time won’t hurt you as it would a woman. Now come, I am going to make you a man.” Sarra lay back on his bed, gave him a lustful look and pulled him over her, guiding his stiff cock into her passage, observing, _It **is** snug! and I like it like that!_

Ned was amazed; he lay naked on top of the warm and lovely girl, skin to skin, her breasts and firm teats pressed into his chest, and his cock felt so comfortable inside her channel. He moved it a little and thought, _This is more fantastic than I ever imagined or dreamed!_ The boy leaned back slightly and looked down between their bodies, seeing where their torsos were joined and slowly throbbing against each other, then focused his eyes up on globes of her perfect breasts. He gently kissed first one sweet teat and then the other while he observed her lovely face, noticing her half closed eyes and fluttering eyelashes. Sarra had full ruby lips, and he saw her symmetrical pearly white teeth biting her lower lip as she focused on the movement of his cock inside of her. Ned marveled, _Now I understand why I am glad to be alive!_

Sarra’s eyes snapped open and she fixed him with a wicked grin that he recognized as the one she usually wore when she was planning mischief. The clever Dornish girl’s eyes sparkled as she told him, “You can pretend that I am Arya, if you like. It will not be the first time I have done so. Close your eyes.” Then in a pleading voice that sounded exactly like the frantic and needy wolf girl, “Oh Ned, I want you so much! Please fuck me! Fuck me hard!”

Ned almost spilled his seed instantly at the sound of her voice, but regained his control and started pounding into her, finally coming explosively and exclaiming, “Oh, Arya!”

He opened his eyes and Sarra smiled at him, “”I was right. You really wanted that.”

They lay quietly for a while and finally Ned turned an embarrassed face to her and responded, “Aye, I confess that I often dream of the wolf girl and enjoyed your game, but now I am going to focus on _your_ pleasure!” and he began swirling and pumping his cock into her channel. He positioned her legs over his shoulders and delved deeper inside her as Sarra began to pulsate violently against him, moaning loudly, calling his name and eventually simply emitting incoherent sounds. Finally she released an elaborate sigh and relaxed, looking at him with an expression of satisfaction as he grunted and shuddered and achieved his own pleasure once again.

Ned was still inside and on top of her, reluctant to withdraw from their wonderfully intimate embrace, and she moved her hands to gently cup his buttocks, pulling him closer and slowly throbbing gently against him. Sarra murmured, “Ned, that was marvelous! I have been convinced for a long time that we could please each other greatly and I was not wrong. I am becoming fond of you and would enjoy repeating that experience often, if you like.”

The lad looked at her shyly and replied, “After you told me that you yearned for a boy to pound you against a stable wall, I found that I could not stop thinking about you, and even dreamt of doing just that.” He kissed her lightly on the lips, “Aye, I like making love to you and would be happy to spend more time with you. You once asked me if we could be ‘friends with benefits’, but I would rather have a more serious relationship.”

Sarra looked surprised, “What do you mean, Ned? Are you implying some sort of commitment?”

Ned was blushing as he explained himself, “We are both Dornish, and I expect that someday we will return home. When we do so, Sarra, mayhaps you would like to become Lady Dayne of Starfall.”

The Sand Snake’s face was now shocked. “Lady Dayne? Are you talking about marriage, Ned?”

He took her hand and shyly said, “I have long observed with affection how intelligent, fun-loving, and vivacious you are, and have even imagined smaller versions of you terrorizing my castle.”

Sarra blushed intensely and replied, “I have no plans to stop drinking moon tea for quite a while. I could consider wedding you, Ned Dayne, but I would not want babes right away. I plan to be Lord Jon’s assistant Hand for as long as the royals need me.”

Seeing the obvious disappointment on the sweet boy’s face, she kissed him and said, “Let’s just see what happens and not force anything right away.” But then she smirked wickedly, “But of course, if you want to force something _else_ on me right now, I would not object.”

Ned chuckled and returned a grin as he positioned himself to initiate another bout of lovemaking and she eagerly responded, extending their delightful tryst deeper into the night.

Later, when Sarra was alone with Arya, she giggled and described her much-anticipated encounter with young Ned, including how she imitated Arya’s voice, and how Ned responded by pounding into her, moaning Arya’s name. “He still has it for you, wolf girl! Ned thumped me so hard that I was afraid that he would loosen my teeth!”

Arya protested, realizing that she still had feelings for young Ned, saying, “Sarra, please do not tease him! That is cruel! He knows that I belong to Aegon now, and it saddens him.”

Sarra replied deviously, “Well, consider this. After you are wed, mayhaps we will travel together and stay in close quarters overnight. What would you say to trading men for an evening? I would certainly like to see what Aegon is like in bed, and I know that both you and Ned fantasize about each other.”

Arya bit her lip, reflecting on how close she and Ned had come to fucking while traveling on the roseroad, and had desired each other badly at the time. She replied slowly, “Mayhaps, if the conditions are right, and the boys agree.”

Sarra smirked, “I will see to it that the boys agree!”

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As the celebration extended late into the night, Aegon and Arya became drowsy from the excitement of the momentous day, and decide that it was time to retire. They walked lethargically to his chambers, hand in hand. Aegon was in extremely high spirits; he was officially the king now, a goal that Lord Jon had worked towards from as long as he could remember; and was betrothed to the girl he had desired since he first met her. His happiness made him playful and when they were in private, he stood in front of Arya, and still wearing his crown, imperiously spoke to the girl, but with a sly smile, “On your knees before your sovereign, lowly vassal!” Arya smiled back and did as ordered. Aegon dropped his breeches and smallclothes, revealing his cock, swollen, stiff, and tumescent, and continued, “I order you to polish my royal scepter!”

Arya was thrilled with his interest in role-play and humbly replied, “Aye, my liege lord, I will do my best to please you!” She started with her hands first, and then devoted her mouth to pleasuring him, thinking, _I am glad that Sarra gave me so much instruction with those carrots!_ But she also smiled to herself, _I dare not remind him that I also had lots of practice on Ned Dayne’s scepter!_ Of course, Aegon was not a selfish monarch and after his knob was well-polished, he delivered a most satisfying ‘Lord’s Kiss’ to his loyal vassal, personally sealing their betrothal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first three Coronation Oaths were traditional. The fourth one, about ‘the welfare of the Peoples’ I added because Arya would have wanted it included.
> 
> Next: More about the celebration and aftermath, and then the wedding and bedding.


	63. A Royal Wedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Readers, I regret the delay, but the wedding and bedding chapter turned out to be a larger writing and editing task than I anticipated, so I am going to upload the Wedding now and the Bedding later. There are many side plots involving our favorite characters, and I want to keep their stories fresh. I hope you like this.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 63 A Royal Wedding

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Previously:

There were many toasts during the feast, some for the new king and queen, some for the betrothed couple, and the Arbor Gold flowed continuously. Musicians played and the guests danced all evening. Arya and Aegon led the dancers to the floor following dinner, including Ned and Catelyn Stark, Jon Connington and Lady Nym, Lyanna Mormont and Theon Greyjoy, and Sansa and Gendry.

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The Coronation Celebration

After dancing the first and second cotillion with Lady Nym, Lord Jon surrendered the lovely Sand Snake to the arms of Lord Renly Baratheon and returned to the high dais. As he sipped from a goblet of Arbor Gold, he admired the graceful Dornish lass on the dance floor as she twirled with the handsome young man, yet he felt no jealousy, content with the development of their relationship. He also observed King Aegon and Lady Arya as they danced, totally absorbed in each other and ignoring the rest of the world. Ladies, both young and old, were pointing at the couple and commenting, sighing about how romantic they appeared.

He saw his capable assistant, Sarra Martell, in the arms of Lord Ned Dayne, and as she smiled flirtatiously at the boy; he had the most adoring look in his eyes. Jon reflected that, as Lady Nym had taught her disciples well, it was no wonder that young men such as Aegon and Ned were so infatuated with them, for their skills in the art of love would leave any male enthralled. He chuckled to himself, thinking that for all three temptresses, their days of conquering numerous male hearts would soon be over.

Lord Jon was standing next to Ser Rolly, who was watching Aegon and Arya dance. As Aegon’s sworn shield, he was responsible for the safely of both now. A thought stirred Connington’s memory; he turned to the knight and asked, “Duck, you actually bedded Lady Nym while we were at Harrenhal, did you not?

Ser Rolly turned a sheepish countenance towards Connington, “Aye, the Sand Snake assaulted me in my cot during the hour of the wolf. She was most insistent and gave me no quarter. I thought her ardor would kill me!”

Connington could not help but chuckle at the knight’s response, “And where was Aegon while you were rendered helpless?”

Duck blushed, “Lady Nym had arranged for Arya to distract him, milord.”

“What?! How? Don’t tell me! They were probably ‘playing maester’ again, I’ll wager!”

“In a sense, aye, the wolf girl engaged him in a tickling game and I believe the prince was very preoccupied with fondling her body and vice versa.”

Lord Jon shook his head and indicated the couple on the dance floor, “Those two cannot keep their hands off of each other. We must not allow the bedding to come before the actual wedding.”

Ser Rolly confidently replied, “Not to worry, milord. The Sand Snakes know many ways to achieve gratification without actual penetration.” Then he looked pointedly at Connington and snickered, “I believe, milord, that you know exactly what I mean!” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, raised his goblet and took a drink.

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Lyanna and Theon

The dance had begun with several lively cotillions, and celebrants of all ages were enjoying the fun. Later, married couples, courting couples, and young people forming new friendships, were all taking advantage of the slower waltzes, and the dance floor remained crowded with happy people. Theon was having a good time; he had begun the evening dancing with an excited and positively exuberant Lyanna, and after a few lively group dances and one waltz together, they broke to find other partners. Lyanna knew that Theon relished the opportunity to dance and flirt with many girls at a party, and she also loved the interaction with eager dance partners.

Theon had danced with Sansa, and was nice enough not to try to embarrass her. He danced with the Manderly maidens, and a few other young ladies from around the realm. He danced with Margaery Tyrell, obviously admiring her lovely figure, and flirted intensely with her. Margaery flirted back with comments as suggestive as his, which inspired the couple, after two close dances, to find a dark hallway and kiss deeply and grope each other until they could take no more. After about a half an hour, they had no more secrets to share, and if they had been rash, they would have found an empty chamber to become even more familiar with each other. By her actions, Theon doubted that Margaery was a maiden, and would have been eager to find out the truth, but his time with the Starks taught him to be more careful with the daughter of a Great House.

When their breathing returned to normal, they readjusted their clothing and helped each other appear presentable again. They returned to the Great Hall, and before she left him, Margaery gave Theon a peck on the cheek and said that she really enjoyed their time together. Theon took a goblet of Arbor Gold from a passing serving girl, giving her the obligatory pinch on the bum, and observed the dancers. He was amused to see Winterfell’s youngest lad, Artos Flint, serenely waltzing with Megga Tyrell, one of Margaery’s pretty and spirited younger cousins. Once at dinner, Theon recalled bold Megga stating how much she liked kissing, so the squid prince smiled to himself, thinking that Artos would probably have a pleasant leave-taking at the end of the evening.

But then Theon was startled to see Lyanna dancing slowly with Squire Adrian, comfortable within his tight embrace, her head lying on his chest with a contented smile on her face, as he occasionally leaned down to nuzzle her neck with his lips and stroke her back. It was obvious that the pair was quite familiar with each other and Theon realized that they had probably been kissing, and mayhaps, even been a little more intimate. Theon’s amazement increased when the dance ended, and Adrian and Artos exchanged partners for the next one, and Lyanna now settled herself comfortably on Artos’ chest, and _this_ boy lightly kissed her hair affectionately and then her earlobe as she squeezed him and smiled sweetly. A blinding surge of jealousy flared up in Theon’s emotions, and he had a strong desire to go and punch both lads. Instead, he controlled himself and went to claim Lyanna when the next waltz began. She smiled at him when he took her in his arms, but she knew instantly that he was tense and angry. “What is the matter?” the she-bear inquired with a concerned voice.

Theon’s response came out as a snarl, “I don’t like the way those boys were fondling you _or_ how you much you obviously enjoyed it!”

Lyanna leaned back and stared up at his face. “You’re a fine one to talk!” she spat belligerently, “You disappeared with Margaery Tyrell long enough to fuck her five different ways!”

The squid prince recoiled from _her_ anger but had no ready response. “I didn’t do anything like that,” he muttered weakly.

“Theon, you are an impossible flirt, and if you are going to continue to be that way, you have no cause to criticize _my_ behavior!” Lyanna insisted.

Theon was at a loss for words, an unusual condition for the flippant young man. Logically, Lyanna was exactly correct in her assessment of the situation, yet he realized that he desired to claim this girl as his own while persisting in trifling with the affections of other maidens at the same time. He was confused and distressed, almost to a point of dizziness and queasiness, and stared at the willful she-bear with an open mouth, unable to form a coherent reply.

Lyanna reacted to his hesitation by slipping from his grasp, putting her hands on her hips, and vehemently declaring, “Until you sort out your muddled mind and can clearly state your intentions, I am going to avoid you! Goodnight!” She stalked away angrily, searching the area for another partner. Seeing Gendry standing alone, she approached him with a determined expression, and demanded that he dance with her. Adding to Theon’s discomfort, he saw that although the young smith had to bend over to embrace her properly, he smiled and appeared to enjoy gathering the curvaceous maiden into his arms.

Hoping that no one had witnessed his embarrassment, Theon casually wandered from the dance floor into the crowd surrounding it and wished that he was invisible. He considered two options: one) get very drunk, or, two) find Robb and have a heart to heart talk. Robb was obviously occupied, so the distressed squid prince grabbed a wineskin and returned to his chambers.

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Margaery’s Surprise

Meanwhile, out on the dance floor, Margaery Tyrell now found herself trapped in the embrace of Littlefinger, who seemed to ooze nastiness from every pore. The middle-aged whoremaster was enjoying his opportunity to leer at the beautiful young girl, and had no concern that she was obviously uncomfortable. Margaery’s head was frantically swiveling around, searching for someone who might save her, when her brother Ser Loras approached and politely but firmly requested to cut in, as he had only recently been reunited with his dear sister after a long absence. Although Ser Loras spoke courteously, he stared at Littlefinger with the visage of a determined warrior, and the minor nobleman bowed his head and released the relieved maiden.

“I will forever be grateful to you for rescuing me from that odious man, Loras,” Margaery told her brother as they danced, “I thought that I might faint from disgust. I feel that I need a bath after being touched by that worm!”

“I could see that you were unhappy, Margaery, and wasted not a minute,” the knight replied, “but I also had a purpose for accosting you. There is someone that I would like you to meet, someone whose acquaintance I made recently and who shares many of your interests,” and he danced her towards a handsome young man standing nearby. Margaery observed that the youth was obviously a proud noble and possessed a few more namedays that her. The sigil on his crimson surcoat was a red sun dissected by a golden spear, and she recognized that he was Dornish and assumed that he was the official emissary from the Martell family to the coronation.

“Sweet sister, I am delighted to introduce you to Prince Quentyn Martell of Sunspear, younger brother of Princess Arianne, the heir to Dorne,” Ser Loras intoned, and then faced the prince, “Prince Quentyn, my I present my dear sister, Lady Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden?”

The polite prince half-bowed and took Margaery’s hand, kissing it lightly and then smiled, stating sincerely, “The rose is the perfect symbol of your House. You are as lovely as a summer rose, Lady Margaery, and your beauty stands out among all the enchanting maidens gathered here.”

Margaery graciously replied while batting her eyelashes, “I thank you for your compliments, Prince Quentin. Do you have other talents besides a gift for flattery?”

The prince grinned and laughed pleasantly. “I have been told that I am nimble on the dance floor,” he retorted.

“Say no more,” she told him, and grasping his arm, lead him out among the dancers, looking back at her brother with a smile and a wink. Prince Quentyn engaged Margaery in amiable small talk as they danced, and she relaxed and was entertained. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted her grandmother on the dais, watching her intently, and when they made eye contact, Lady Olenna nodded and smiled with approval.

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The Sand Snakes’ Tea

Lady Nym requested her disciples to meet her for tea one afternoon and asked Arya to bring Lyanna along as a potential Sand Snake. Observing the fine tea set and sniffing the fragrance, Sarra grinned and announced, “Ah, herbal tea! No moon tea this day!”

The older Sand Snake blushed slightly and appeared demure and matronly as she poured the tea and began speaking, “I asked you to gather here today for a serious chat because, with the coronation and Arya’s impending wedding to cousin Aegon, our lives will be dramatically changing.”

“I have some news to relate,” she continued, and now she was truly blushing. “Lord Connington has asked me to be his bride and I have accepted. We have not set a wedding date, but at some time in the future we will marry and relocate to Griffin’s Roost in the Stormlands, where…,” she hesitated, took a deep breath and rapidly blurted, “I will bear his babes!”

Arya and Sarra jumped up and hugged her, sending several teacups flying in all directions, and a servant winced as they shattered into pieces on the floor. The girls chattered congratulations, all speaking at the same time. They reseated themselves, smiling and laughing, as the servant reset the table, poured more tea, and reorganized the plates of sweet cakes.

Sarra spoke up and said, “I have an announcement, also. I have come to an _understanding_ with Ned Dayne and he confessed that he would like to pursue a serious relationship with me. I will continue to serve as Lord Jon’s assistant, but someday we may return to Dorne together.”

There were more congratulations and Lady Nym smirked, “So I assume that Arya was not exaggerating about the lad’s _skill_ in the bedroom and you want him for yourself now?”

The younger Sand Snake grinned and replied, “You _could_ say that. We have found that we are _very_ compatible!”

Lady Nym laughed, “What a shame! I would have liked to sample his talents, but I suppose that it would be inappropriate to do so now.”

“Actually, Lady Nym,” Sarra chuckled, “I wouldn’t mind, as I am sure you could teach him something useful, but Ned is quite conservative and insists that he intends to be monogamous.”

Nym laughed again, “What a waste!”

Sarra had a roguish expression, “His declaration was overly chivalrous. I believe that if Arya tempted him, he would drop his smallclothes in a heartbeat!”

Now Arya blushed and interjected, “Please, Sarra, I know that Ned crushes on me, but you should not tease him about it.”

Nym looked from one to the other, “My, my, what a tangled web we weave. Are we spiders and all men flies?” Then she looked over at Lyanna and added, “Young lady Mormont, I understand that you have already captured numerous hearts at your tender age. As a swordswoman and a coquette, you truly have the makings of a Sand Snake. Would you like to enter my training program with Arya and Sarra?”

Lyanna nodded, “Aye, my lady, Arya has become my best friend and I would like to share her lessons. I think my mother would be pleased.”

The warrior woman smiled and replied, “Good! I don’t think you will be disappointed. However, your first act should be trading your heavy woolen clothing for silk robes. Your wardrobe is appropriate for the cold North, but King’s Landing is much too warm for you to continue wearing so many insulating layers. Please do not take this personally, but wool also is hard to clean and always betrays the scent of the wearer’s sweat. Silk is cleaner and you will smell and feel fresher.”

The she-bear had been very attentive and was listening eagerly, so Lady Nym continued, “I will train you in our style of swordplay and also introduce you to a variety of new weapons. I understand that you are a skilled horsewoman and you will learn to fight from horseback. A warrior woman must also be able to distract a male opponent with her appearance, so Sarra will fit you with silk robes and educate you about fashion and makeup. Go with her now and change into something more becoming. By the time that you return to the North, you will be an even more formidable adversary to your foes.”

Lyanna joined Sarra at the wardrobe and the older girl started pulling a variety of silk robes from the closet. Then Sarra turned to the serving girl and asked her to fetch the castle seamstress. She ordered Lyanna to step out of her gown and when she did, Sarra made a face and added, “Remove those coarse smallclothes, also. You shall only wear silk or linen from now on. Let’s see, although you are shorter, we share the same dimensions. These smallclothes were sewn for me but they should fit you.”

The sheer smallclothes that Sarra handed her were delicate and lacy, and Lyanna realized that she felt more feminine when she slipped them on. Sarra had her try on a few lovely robes and the seamstress began her alterations. When the first one was ready, she slipped it on, belted the waist and added her dagger, and inspected herself in the looking glass. Sarra had brushed kohl on her eyelids and a little color to her cheeks and lips. Lyanna had to admit that the girl who stared back at her was lovely and shapely, but also appeared dangerous at the same time. Sansa had prettied her up for the feast at Winterfell, but this was different. She looked exotic and mysterious, alluring even. _Theon will eat his heart out when he sees me now! I hope he suffers!_ she thought, _“I’ll wager that Adrian and Artos will be surprised, too!_

Sarra embraced Lyanna from behind and lightly kissed her neck, “Welcome to the sisterhood, she-bear. When Arya is wedded and leaves to share chambers with Aegon, I would like you to become my bedmate. Does that appeal to you?”

Lyanna turned in her arms and nodded, thinking, _Arya said that will also be part of my education!_

Meanwhile, back at the tea table, Arya spoke up. “Lady Nym, I am familiar with your discussion of distracting men in combat, but what should I do if I am ever confronted with another _woman_ warrior?”

“In that case,” Nym chuckled, “you better hope that _you_ are the better fighter!”

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Inspection

As the wedding date approached, there was one more occasion of official business to complete, the dreaded “Inspection” of the bride’s maidenhead by the High Septon. Ladies Catelyn, Ashara, and Nym were all nervous and fluttering about, telling the she-wolf not to worry. Strangely enough, Arya appeared to be the most relaxed, especially after a shipment of dragon peppers arrived from Dorne. She smiled at her mentors, and said she was not intimidated and had a surprise planned for the pompous religious leader. On the evening before “The Inspection”, Arya feasted on a dinner of beans and chopped aurochs meat prepared with tomatoes, onions, and the aforementioned spicy dragon peppers.

Lady Ashara accompanied Arya to the Great Sept, where they were met by two septas and taken to the Inspection Chamber where the High Septon, looking very stern, awaited her. Arya was ordered to remove her smallclothes and climb up onto a cold marble table. She placed her feet into two raised stirrups stationed uncomfortably far apart and adjusted her robes to reveal her center. The High Septon leaned in, squinted at her private area and announced with obvious surprise in his voice, “Lady Arya is intact! I proclaim her to be a maiden and suitable to wed the king!”

At that precise moment, Arya released an enormous, loud, and odiferous fart, sending the High Septon flying backwards, choking for breath and waving his hand in front of his face while blinking his stinging and watering eyes. Arya appeared embarrassed and apologized profusely while getting off of the awful table and began to dress herself. When she and Ashara were clear of the Sept, they broke up into intense laughter, and with tears streaming from her eyes, Lady Ashara said, “Now I understand your choice of an evening meal last night, my lady! You planned this!”

The wolf girl just grinned wickedly and said nothing.

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Arya and Daenerys

Prior to the wedding, Daenerys generously offered Arya the use of her handmaidens, Irri and Jhiqui, lovely copper-skinned Dothraki girls with black hair and almond-shaped eyes, skilled in the art of love. Arya smirked, “I am a Sand Snake, and my education has been most complete in that field, also. However, if Sarra and I meet these maiden and compare notes, mayhaps we will be able to teach each other something new.” The dragon queen observed the younger girl with an awakening interest, and Arya put her hand on her forearm and murmured coquettishly, “Dany, mayhaps you would like for me to demonstrate _my_ expertise some time?” She appraised the queen’s figure and grinned, “It might be fun!”

Daenerys’ eyes widened as she realized what Arya had suggested, and she softly replied, “Mayhaps I would…. some time.”

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The Wedding

The day of the royal wedding arrived and the participants were to travel by open wheelhouses to the Great Sept. Since Arya was a child of the North and her people traditionally worshipped the old gods, wedding vows would be exchanged in the Red Keep’s Godswood following the public ceremony before the Seven. King Aegon was resplendent in his crown and a vermilion doublet trimmed in gold, with a dragon sigil embroidered in black over his breast. Arya wore a small tiara with a garnet in the center; her hair was loose and glossy and reached the middle of her back. Her gown was a shimmering white silk robe trimmed in grey. However, the robe was slightly translucent; in the strong afternoon sunlight any nearby observant witnesses could see the outline of her legs and shapely torso. The bride had smirked to her entourage that she wore white to advertise her ‘purity and innocence’. Lord and Lady Stark, and Sansa, had looked uncomfortable, but Lady Nym, Sarra, and Lyanna had chuckled behind their hands, and Robb, Theon, and Gendry laughed out loud.

The wedding ceremony was held on the top step of the Great Sept, in full view of the populace. The young Dragon King and the Wolf Princess were enormously popular among both the soldiers and the civilians, and everyone was in high spirits. The royal couple knelt before the High Septon, who first eyed Arya with distrust, but recovered and led them in reciting the seven vows. Then he raised his hands over their heads and gave them the seven blessings. Aegon and Arya exchanged the seven promises, and at that point the High Septon told Aegon to stand and claim his wife with the cloak of his House.

Lord Jon handed him the Targaryen bride’s cloak, embroidered with the three-headed dragon, red on a field of black. Lord Stark had delivered Arya to the top step and now unfastened and removed her maiden cloak, grey with a direwolf running on an ice-white field. Her family was gathered on the steps below them, Lady Catelyn and Sansa were embracing and crying, and everyone else had damp eyes.

The High Septon called for the exchange of rings to bind them together forever, and laughter emanated from the audience as Nymeria, tail wagging madly, bounded up the steps bearing the rings fastened to the velvet pillow in her teeth. Smiling, they each took a ring and placed it on their spouse’s finger, and then embraced.

Aegon looked towards the witnesses and announced, “With this kiss we pledge our love!” They kissed long and deeply to the cheers of crowd.

The High Septon solemnly declared, “Aegon of House Targaryen and Arya of House Stark are one flesh, one heart, one soul! Hail the king and his queen!”

To the cheers of the residents of King’s Landing and the guests, the procession descended the steps, led by Ser Rolly and Ser Barristan, followed by the royal couple and the immediate family members. Lyanna Mormont scattered rose petals from a basket before them, and Theon didn’t recognize her at first, thinking that she was a Dornish maiden. As the wheelhouses left the marble square, bread was distributed to the populace according to tradition, purchased with Arya’s ransom money.

After returning to the Red Keep, the wedding party and the Starks went before the heart tree in the castle Godswood, where the Northern vows were exchanged, kneeling in front of the heart tree. Lord Stark intoned dramatically, “Who comes before the Old Gods this day?”

“Arya, of House Stark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, true-born and noble. She comes to beg the blessing of the Gods.”

“Who comes to claim her?”

“Aegon, of House Targaryen. Do you take me, Arya of House Stark?”

“I take this man,” Arya replied emotionally.

They kissed again and turned to the witnesses, raising their entwined hands into the air. With whoops and hollers, the party moved to the Great Hall for the wedding feast.

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The Wedding Feast:

The Lannister banners in the Great Hall of the Red Keep had been replaced by Targaryen banners, and the chamber was filled with tables and benches. Queen Daenerys, with Lord Jon Connington, the Hand of the King and Queen, by her side, was already front and center on the high dais as the wedding party marched in, welcoming them as a reigning monarch should. Aegon, Arya, and Lord and Lady Stark joined her at the center of the long table, with Ladies Ashara and Nym flanking them. Sers Rolly, Selmy, Jorah, and the Unsullied Grey Worm, stood behind the royals, as sworn shields were expected to do, and the younger Starks and the other major guests were seated at tables directly below the dais.

Many delicious courses had been prepared, but before the food was served, a huge two-handled goblet was filled with wine and placed before the newlyweds. They each drank a sip and raised it together in a toast to the company, and shouts of approval were returned. Then a large steaming trencher of a mouthwatering stew was set in front of them as the first course was being served, and as tradition demanded, Aegon ripped a piece of bread from a loaf and used it to pick up a piece of meat, dripping with sauce, and delivered it to his bride’s open mouth. Then, Arya, her eyes flashing with mischief, took a larger piece of bread and meat and smashed it into Aegon’s face.

As the crowd roared, tears of laughter running down some witnesses’ faces, Aegon wiped the mess off with his napkin and said, “I’ll get you!” and grabbed a handful of stew and returned the favor. Arya actually tried to swallow some of the food, and soon the royal couple was sloppily feeding each other, to the delight of many, and the amused, but disapproving looks of Ladies Catelyn and Ashara. Occasionally they would stop eating and share sloppy kisses, which also garnered the approval of the guests. The pair was elated, as previously they had often been scolded for public displays of affection, but during the feast they were being encouraged to demonstrate their love frequently. Lady Nym had japed, “Just try to keep your clothes on and your hands in sight.”

As the wedding feast proceeded, course after course of fragrant and tasty dishes were served, the wine poured continuously, and an endless stream of performers, including minstrels, jugglers, contortionists, acrobats, and tumblers entertained the guests. When conversation died down to a low murmur and everyone concentrated on eating, the royal couple got up to circulate around the hall, greeting their friends, colleagues, and vassals, enduring the frequent ribald comments amidst the congratulations.

Arya joined her personal catapult crew, ‘Bloody Bessie’s Boys’, to share wine and hear the familiar soldiers’ toasts, grinning at their lewd remarks about the bedding, a subject they had all japed about even during the fighting. The she-wolf had indulged in much Arbor Gold by now, which loosened her tongue, and she announced, “Although I am a maiden, there will be no secrets awaiting me in the bedchamber!”

Her men waggled their eyebrows and cheered, raising their goblets again. Then she looked at them with a serious expression and said, “If you want to honor me, go home and make your wives and women happy. Give them exactly what they desire for once, and you will find that you will be treated better too.” Arya turned to Sergeant Rufus and told him that his daughter would be welcomed as a handmaid in the castle, and to inform her later if the idea suited her. Gendry had been amused by the tales of Arya’s artillery experiences, and had fashioned direwolf pins for her soldiers, and a larger one for Rufus. The men were proudly wearing the pins when Arya had arrived at their table, and she had thanked the young smith with a kiss on the cheek.

After the sweet dishes were consumed, the tables were pushed back from the center of the hall, the musicians tuned their instruments, and the dancing commenced.

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Dancing at the Feast

The traditional dances came first, to the cooing of the audience – the newlyweds danced alone, their eyes shining as they gazed at each other. Then Arya danced with her father as Aegon danced with Lady Catelyn. Lord Ned looked proud enough to burst, and Aegon said, “I am pleased to call you ‘good-mother’ now.”

Lady Stark’s eyes became damp and she confessed to her good-son, “When Arya was a filthy urchin is boy’s clothing, bruised and sloppy, and chasing after her brothers around Winterfell, I could never imagine her becoming a beautiful queen.”

Aegon laughed and replied, “I was fascinated by her from the moment that I met her, and Arya needed a lot of convincing, but I was determined to win her because I knew we would find true love.”

It was Lady Catelyn’s turn to laugh, “Her sister Sansa would have died to hear someone say that about her, yet it was the tomboy who reaped such a romance.” Then she grinned, “Arya was a trial to raise, and Lord Jon and Lady Ashara echoed our concerns. I hope you have the patience and energy to share her life. You know she will challenge you.”

The young king nodded and smiled, “Lord Jon also said that Arya would keep life interesting, and so far he has not been wrong.”

More couples joined the royal couple on the dance floor, and Arya danced in turn with Lord Jon, Robb, Theon, and Gendry. The Winterfell lads had schemed together, and each one grinned and called her ‘your grace’ and ‘queen underfoot’ when they danced with her. But all three could not help but observe that the girl they had all known as their ‘tomboy baby sister’ (for true in Robb’s case) had been transformed into a lovely princess, and they blurted out, “Arya, you are beautiful!” to which she blushed in response.

Ned Dayne was the last of the lads to dance with her, and he could not keep his admiration from his eyes, as he sighed wistfully, “My lady, you are a vision! I envy King Aegon!”

Arya flushed ever more at his words, for she knew that Ned loved her and she was most uncomfortable with their relationship. She did not want to encourage his attention, but also did not want to hurt him either. _Awkward,_ was all she thought.

Aegon danced with both of his aunts, Daenerys and Ashara, and his cousins, Lady Nym and Sarra, and his new good-sister Sansa. Lady Nym teased that with so many assertive women in his family now, he would find it difficult to make an independent decision. Aegon wrinkled his brow and frowned with concern, but Nym lightly said that he and Queen Daenerys would at least have the advantage of honest advisors.

The lords and ladies who were politically astute observed the dance floor with approval, believing that the cheerful young people before them represented the promising future of the realm. Those old enough to remember the fateful Harrenhal tourney saw in Arya and Aegon younger versions of Lyanna and Rhaegar, but symbolizing the peaceful union of North and South, a far cry from the turmoil of Robert’s Rebellion. Word had spread that Lady Arya was such a favorite among the Stark bannermen that they had immediately cast their support for the Targaryens. It was also known that the Great Houses of the Riverlands and the Vale were related by blood to the Starks of Winterfell, adding those kingdoms to the supporters of the new regime.

Robb Stark, the heir to Winterfell, was dancing with Lady Shireen Baratheon, and it seemed likely that a real joining of Houses Stark and Baratheon, quite different from the ill-conceived betrothal of Joffrey the abomination to Lady Sansa Stark. Witnesses also commented on another handsome couple. Lady Margaery Tyrell and Prince Quentyn Martell looked quite happy as they danced, and there was murmuring of another wedding soon, which would finally bring peace between Dorne and Highgarden, and thus, harmony to most of the realm. A clever student of history might wonder how the Lannisters would fit in with this new order, but that was a subject for the future. Even several young Greyjoys of the contentious Iron Islands were seen in the hall interacting sociably with other youths.

Theon Greyjoy appeared to be enjoying himself as he danced with several of the friendly young ladies, especially the Manderly maidens that Robb Stark was now neglecting, but his heart was heavy. As she had angrily announced, Lyanna Mormont had avoided him since their argument following the coronation, and when he caught her eye at the wedding feast, her face darkened and she scowled at him. However, she was all sweetness and smiles when she danced with her friends, Adrian and Artos, and in the Dornish silk robes she now wore, Lyanna was as lovely as any of the Sand Snakes. She would not even look at him, and his feelings of jealousy and dismay were all consuming.

To make matters worse, he now saw Lyanna with a new dance partner, Perros Blackmont, a Dornish lad his own age. Sarra Martell, who was now in _his_ arms, had told him that Perros was squire to Franklyn Fowler, Lord of Skyreach and Warden of the Prince’s Pass. Perros had acquitted himself well during the battle of the roseroad, and his future looked favorable. His mother, Lady Lanna Blackmont was a close bannerman of Prince Doran of Dorne, however his older sister was the heir to the House.

With a wicked grin, Sarra had confessed that she introduced the pair, and that Lyanna would be wise to protect her maidenhead, as Perros was a practiced seducer. Theon saw the squire smiling at Lyanna and had placed his hand lower on her back than was proper. She promptly moved it higher but returned his smile. Sarra drawled casually, “I first fucked Perros when we both had only ten and three namedays, and his skill with his hands and cock have improved with time.” Theon looked startled and the Sand Snake continued, “I know that Lyanna is passionate, as she has responded intensely to my touch, and I can imagine Perros sliding between her thighs tonight if she yields.”

The image of this squire making love to Lyanna made Theon’s blood begin to boil, and he was about to run over and pull them apart when he realized that Sarra was holding him tightly and purring, “But don’t worry about them, Theon. I would like to take _you_ to my chambers and show you _my_ skills! Shall we leave?”

Theon stared at the lovely maiden who had just propositioned him. He and Robb had forced Gendry to confess why he was so flustered by the Dornish girl and he admitted that when naked and writhing in front of him, she had to be the most enticing feminine form he could ever imagine, and she had quickly shown him that her hands were skilled at bringing a man incredible pleasure. To his own surprise, Theon realized that he did not desire Sarra, but was still focused on Lyanna’s predicament. Perros was whispering in the younger girl’s ear and he bit her earlobe gently, and she looked at him wide-eyed but nodded in agreement to whatever he had suggested. He squeezed her arse as they made their way off the dance floor.

In a panic, Theon captured Sarra’s gaze and responded, “You are lovely, Sarra, but as crazy as it sounds, I must decline.” Now he was pleading with urgency and anguish in his whining voice, “Please, Sarra, stop Perros from dishonoring Lyanna! I cannot bear to imagine what will happen if they go off together alone right now!”

Sarra looked at him shrewdly, “So you do not desire to bed me and are only concerned with Lyanna’s virtue?”

Theon dropped his gaze and blushed with embarrassment, muttering, “I confess that I care for the she-bear more that I have been willing to admit, and I realize that she matters more to me than any other girl.” His shoulders sagged with hopelessness and he sighed, raising his eyes with a piteous expression on his face.

The Sand Snake knew Theon well enough to recognize that this was uncharacteristic and vulnerable behavior for the flirtatious and self-centered youth, and smiled conspiratorially as she replied, “Fear not, squid prince, I think we can rescue your damsel in distress!” She took his hand and they set off after Perros and Lyanna.

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Finally, the sun, which had been moving lower and lower in the sky, as seen through the many long windows that lined the Great Hall, set below the horizon, and as shadows gathered, a shout went up, “It’s time for the Bedding!” and all eyes turned towards Arya and Aegon, who froze in place, wide-eyed with uncertainty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As another author adds at the end of every chapter: Fan fiction writers are fueled by caffeine and comments.
> 
> Next: The Bedding! I promise! It will be worth the wait.


	64. The Bedding

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! I hope you enjoy it!

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 64 The Bedding

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Previously:

Finally, the sun, which had been moving lower and lower in the sky, as seen through the many long windows that lined the Great Hall, set below the horizon, and as shadows gathered, a shout went up, “It’s time for the Bedding!” and all eyes turned towards Arya and Aegon, who froze in place, wide-eyed with uncertainty.

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The Bedding

The newlyweds were standing on opposite sides of the Great Hall as shouts for the bedding filled the chamber, and as a pack of grinning girls surrounded the young king, Arya raised her arm in a pre-arranged signal and Gendry and Robb were instantly flanking her sides, clenching their fists and scowling menacingly at the lecherous men who dared to approach the bride. Those who had anticipated groping the shapely maiden hesitated, intimidated by her guardians, and stood stock still as they lewdly stared at her.

Arya muttered, “Seven hells!” as she loosened and dropped her silk robe, proudly revealing Lady Nym’s nameday gift, the abbreviated, tiny crocheted white silk smallclothes, trimmed with lace, that exposed as much ivory flesh as they hid. The she-wolf’s breasts, teats, and the fine brown hairs of her mound were partially visible; and pale silk stockings with garters of bright red ribbons with bows covered her legs, but bared an expanse of creamy thighs between the tops of her stockings and the smallclothes that framed the triangle of her _mons pubis_. A small silver dagger in a leather sheath was also attached to her right thigh.

Silence reigned in the hall as ladies stared with envy and men, frozen in place, gasped and dropped their jaws, their tongues hanging out and their fingers grabbing at the air; some attempting to move forward. Gendry and Robb crossed their arms and glowered, their posture implying that they would maim any man foolish enough to approach the lovely girl.

Lady Nym squeezed Lord Jon’s arm, and when he looked her way, she smirked, “Well, the wolf girl got her wish. She admires the courtesans in the pleasure houses of Braavos, and now Arya appears as one herself, enflaming the loins of all the men within view. I hope she is pleased.”

Lord Jon chuckled, “When she was but a child she shocked me with that pronouncement. I did not know at the time how unconventional Lady Arya could be. She will certainly keep Aegon entertained.”

Overcome by the ocean of lust displayed before her, Arya repeated, “Seven hells!” removed one garter and tossed it into the crowd. The men began to fight for possession of the garter and a melee commenced right there in the Great Hall. Several were wounded, but fortunately no one died. In the confusion, Gendry lifted Arya up onto his shoulder, and he and Robb safely walked her to the royal bedchamber and placed her gently on the bed. The young smith was unnerved, as his face had been so close to her sex and he could still smell where her damp smallclothes had rested on his tunic.

Arya kissed Robb on the cheek, saying, “You are a wonderful brother,” and dismissed him, adding, “I want a moment with Gendry.” Robb’s eyes turned to Gendry doubtfully, but he left the chamber. The seductive girl stretched the fabric of her smallclothes, revealing her small, round breasts, and grinned at him, “I didn’t have these when we kissed in the forge at Harrenhal, do you like my bosom now?”

Gendry’s eyes became wide and he gulped, “Aye!”

Arya smiled with satisfaction and purred, “You may kiss them, if you like.” Gendry was entranced and immediately lowered his head to fondle and noisily suck on her breasts and teats, moaning with pleasure. The forward wolf girl then japed, “I wager that you would like to fuck me up against this door!”

He muttered, “Door!” as his eyes became glazed, and he pressed her against the door, lifting his mouth from her breasts to boldly kiss her lips. Arya responded, and their tongues wrestled as they simulated coupling for a few delightful minutes, their privates grinding against each other, Arya’s hands running over the dark hair covering his chest, Gendry’s hand boldly slipping into her smallclothes to caress her mound and a breast. When the adventurous new bride felt Gendry’s cock become hard and insistently throbbing against her slit, she broke the contact and pushed him out the door, laughing, “Thank you, Gendry, you have made me all wet for my husband!”

One minute after Gendry left, Aegon entered, actually, he was shoved through the door, stripped completely naked, with his impressive cock hanging limply, slapping against his thigh as he walked. Arya grinned at the sight and japed, “Well, I see that those bold wenches stole all your clothes, but I am glad no one took your cock! If they had, I would be sorely disappointed!” The maidens had attacked the handsome prince and speedily ripped his clothes from his body. Sarra had been at the forefront and Aegon distinctly remembered her fondling his cock and displaying it to the other girls, bragging on his admirable characteristics. The women seemed to agree that his member was of sufficient length and thickness to give his new wife much pleasure, and some japed that if he wanted to practice on them first, they would promptly lift their skirts. With a sudden blush of embarrassment, he recalled that even Margaery Tyrell had fondled his cock in the hall while the women transported him to his bedchamber. Sarra had ordered him to pound his bride so hard that she would not be able to walk on the morrow. Aegon began to realize that a wedding and bedding tended to make almost _everyone_ shockingly lascivious.

Aegon was relieved to be free of his attackers, and in the safety of his bedchamber. Then he saw Arya standing by the huge featherbed, clad in the smallclothes and stockings that had shocked the assemblage. He approached her, took her arm and twirled her to get the full effect of the enticing lingerie, and declared, “I wager that you are the most desirable girl in the entire world and I am the luckiest boy!”

Arya replied, “Lady Nym had these smallclothes especially made for our wedding night and I am glad you approve.”

Aegon simply removed the top part of the set and settled his mouth on one of her sweet breasts and his hand on the other, noting that her teats were wrinkled and pointed. Then he abruptly lifted his head and inquired, “Why are your breasts already soaking wet?!”

The new bride grinned wickedly and replied, “That is because I allowed Gendry to suck on them. It was excellent!”

The flustered prince groaned, “Arya, are you trying to make me crazy?!”

“Of course,” she chuckled, “I want you to prove to me that I need no other man than you.”

Her new husband’s eyes narrowed and his lips formed a thin line, “In that case, tonight I am going to fuck you into next week!”

“That’s the spirit!” Arya replied, making a show of removing the rest of her smallclothes but leaving the stockings on, and as he watched, pulled a sheer and translucent embroidered silk nightgown over her head, wiggling her hips as it slid over them. As he admired the nightie, she said, “This is a gift from Sarra. She said that she knew you would like it.”

“Humph, Sarra! That Sand Snake almost stole my cock! But I much prefer _your_ hand on it,” he said as he lifted her and placed her on the bed, and continued, “as much as I like your nightgown, I prefer to see you _out_ of it, so off it goes!” and he pulled it over her head and began to suck on her breasts again.

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Gendry and Sansa

His head in a fog of desire, Gendry wandered back to the Great Hall, where Sansa grabbed him and began to berate him in a reproachful voice, “I can smell my sister’s sex on your clothes, even your hands! You are disgusting! I want you to bathe immediately!” The angry girl dragged him to her chamber, ordering servants along the way to fill her tub with hot water. Behind her closed door, he stripped off the offending tunic and Sansa flung it into the corner. She was still extremely angry, “What do you have to say for yourself?!”

Gendry was still dazed and distracted, “Door!” was all he could respond.

Sansa accused, “You want to bed my sister!”

Now the young smith’s focus sharpened, “Aye, any man with a beating heart would want to bed your sister! And if he didn’t, she would work to make him desire her! You saw what happened in the Hall when she dropped her silk robe! Every man in the room wanted her at that moment!” Gendry paused, calmed his emotions, and angrily continued, “And Sansa, you are partly to blame! When you were children in Winterfell, you constantly told her that she was ugly, and Jeyne told her that no one would want to marry her! Her behavior is a direct result to the way you treated her as a child! You met the Red Viper of Dorne at the wedding. Well, when Arya possessed only ten and two namedays, she had that daunting warrior on his knees attending to her pleasure! Now do you understand?!”

Sansa was startled and had no response, but Gendry wasn’t finished and loudly exclaimed, “But I don’t want your sister! I want _you_!” He reached out and tightly embraced her, kissing her deeply, and started to fondle her breasts and torso with more insistence than ever before. Sansa was shocked but responded, thrilled by his obvious need for her, returning his kisses and running her hands over the carpet of thick black hair covering his chest and stomach. Gendry boldly reached under her dress, found the laces on her smallclothes, and continued kissing her while he loosened them and decisively pushed them out of the way. He fondled her mound and slid two fingers into her damp channel. Sansa moaned, surprised and loving this new experience, pressing her slit against his hand. Gendry had never been so forward with her before, and the sensation delighted her to the core.

The extremely aroused young man muttered, “I want to see you naked!” and started to strip off her clothes, but tried to be slow and attentive to her, and not frighten her. Gendry admired her lush body, and blurted out, “Lady Sansa, you are so beautiful! The image of the Maiden herself!” as he gently laid her on the bed.

Sansa blushed in response, which only made her lovelier in Gendry’s eyes, as the rosy color spread from her cheeks to her breasts and teats. Without saying another word, the passionate smith dropped to his knees and without any further thought, gave Sansa her first Lord’s Kiss. It was his first Lord’s Kiss, also. As his tongue slid into her passage, she screamed and clutched his head and wrapped her legs around his neck, pulling him closer to her enflamed center. Gendry brought her to a rapid and explosive orgasm, and Sansa released his head, falling back panting on the bed, not sure at all what had just happened, but completely convinced that she wanted it to happen again and again. He whispered in her ear, “It is time for that bath, my lady, but you are going to join me.” Quickly removing the rest of his clothing, Gendry held out his hand and helped her up, and together they walked to the large copper tub, steaming with hot water. Gendry sat down in the water and pulled Sansa onto his lap, and she was thrilled by the feeling of his cock against her arse. He caressed her breasts, and eventually they changed positions and soaped each other all over He took her small hand and encouraged her to fondle his huge cock, demonstrating how he wanted her to stroke it and together they brought him to a groaning climax. By the time the water was lukewarm, they were both very satisfied with their shared intimacy and Sansa was no longer angry. The feast was still boisterous, so no one noticed that Sansa slipped into Gendry’s chambers to fetch him clean clothing.

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Consummation

Aegon had been lavishing attention on Arya’s breasts and they cuddled and fondled each other for a while until Aegon leaned back and gave his new wife a serious look and said expectantly, “Well, here we are.”

Arya immediately realized that Aegon was thinking that the hour was right for the consummation of their marriage and she actually felt nervous upon hearing his words. She could not help but appear anxious, as she had often heard that the first sexual experience for a maid was bound to be painful, bloody, and unpleasant.

Her husband saw her concerned expression, got up and went over to the vanity, returning to the bed with Arya’s hairbrush and muttering, “Lady Nym brought this here before the feast. She said that it might be useful.” The new bride relaxed as Aegon began to gently brush out her long locks as he stroked her arms, leaning in occasionally to lay light butterfly kisses on her neck, throat, and behind her ear. After a while she turned in his arms, initiated a deep kiss, and they tangled tongues and caressed sensitive areas. Arya realized that she had become quite aroused and a careful exploration revealed that Aegon was also. From her quiet moans and the heat of her skin, Aegon sensed the change and whispered, “My lady, are you ready?”

The new bride looked into his eyes and nodded. He gently laid her back on the featherbed and positioned himself between her open legs. She observed that Aegon’s cock was truly thick and very large, very much like the real stallion she had often japed about, and she wondered if he could actually fit inside her narrow slit. Arya was wet and receptive and she enjoyed the feeling as he glided in as deeply as he had the first time he ventured to slip his cock inside her passage, but as he forced himself deeper, she felt pressure and pain as he stretched her folds apart. Soon he was pressing against her maidenhead and she gritted her teeth and tried to endure the discomfort. Aegon saw her expression and hesitated, asking with some anxiety, “Arya, should I stop?”

Arya shook her head and retorted with a grimace, “Nae, let’s get this over with!” Impulsively, she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulled him closer, and cried out as he pierced her maidenhead. After the initial pain, she realized that his cock was buried deeply within, completely filling her, and as he slowly rocked back and forth, moving imperceptibly in and out, the pain faded and she began to enjoy how snugly he fit inside of her. Arya also began to rock, matching the rhythm of his thrusts, and soon she began to feel the same sensation that she had previously had to a tongue or fingers caressing her folds, but this was even more intense. She realized that she relished the novel experience of their entwined bodies moving as one being. Aegon groaned and started thrusting with more force and she responded, and before long they were moaning and pounding against each other. Suddenly Arya felt a tingling sensation starting in her toes and shooting out all through the rest of her body, and as she exclaimed, “Oh! Oh! Oooooh!” a hot gush of liquid spread between her legs as her orgasm left her satiated and relaxed.

Aegon moaned as _he_ came and she felt his seed adding to the warm wetness inside her and spilling out to drip down her thighs. Arya was sore but contented, and Aegon opened his eyes, kissed her neck and asked, “Are you all right?” She nodded and he sighed as he slowly pulled his wet, limp cock out of her sweet center, kissed the tip of her nose, and then gasped loudly when he looked down to where their bodies had been joined. Arya reacted to the sound by opening her eyes and following his gaze. She also gasped as they both observed that her slit and thighs, and Aegon’s cock, as well as the bed sheet directly beneath them, were covered in the bright red arterial blood from her perforated maidenhead.

Both youths moved back and curiously inspected the bloodstain. “It looks kind of like a butterfly,” Arya suggested, and Aegon nodded his agreement.

Then the young husband smiled slightly and replied, “You know that we will be expected to hang this sheet from the balcony tomorrow morning as proof of consummation and your innocence.”

Arya grimaced, “I don’t fancy all of Westeros being privy to our private life, but tradition requires us to suffer this indignity. At least we will not have to repeat the embarrassment.”

The castle staff had built a crackling fire in the hearth, and placed a small copper bowl of soothing herb-infused water nearby to warm. Aegon got up and soaked a soft towel in the water and gently cleaned Arya’s sex and thighs, and then cleaned himself. When all the blood and fluids had been removed, he took a dry towel to pat both of them dry. Arya kissed his cheek and murmured, “Thank you,” luxuriating in his loving attention.

The newlyweds cuddled together under the blanket of the comfortable featherbed to keep warm and caressed each other gently, enjoying the intimacy and novelty of their situation. Arya laid her head on Aegon’s chest, stroking the sparse fine silver hairs. “That was nice. I liked feeling you inside me, _husband_ ,” she smiled, obviously enjoying vocalizing the new word in her vocabulary.

“I enjoyed coupling also, _wife_. I am so happy that we are now wed,” he responded, also relishing the pronunciation of _his_ new word. They embraced quietly for some time, and eventually Aegon queried, “You screamed earlier, Arya. Are you still in pain? I did not want to hurt you and would be dismayed if you are suffering.”

Arya considered – her center felt sore and strangely stretched, but as she shifted her position she felt more needy than hurt. She wanted Aegon inside of her again. “It doesn’t hurt so much now,” she replied, smiling at him invitingly, but Aegon’s thoughts were elsewhere.

“Gendry had just left our chamber when I entered, and you admitted that he had been kissing your breasts,” Aegon inquired cautiously, “What else did he do?”

“Weeeeell,” the playful she-wolf teased, “He warmed me up for you!”

Aegon’s eyes blazed and he responded angrily, grasping her arms, “Are you still warm _now_?!”

“Aye!” Arya purred, “I would certainly welcome your attention, your grace.”

The young king was obviously still fuming, “Well, if you persist in thinking about the smith, consider me the hammer!” He climbed on top of her and began to push her thighs apart with his knees.

 _Oooooh, I like this angry Aegon!_ Arya thought, _This could be fun!_ She spread her legs to welcome him and, without preamble, he thrust his cock quickly and deeply into her damp folds. She sucked in her breath and suppressed a moan at the sudden pain of his entry, but the discomfort quickly passed and then there was the intense pleasure of molding her center to his member, pulsating as one person once more. She wrapped her legs around his waist, securing his cock inside of her and throbbing with the rhythm her lover had initiated.

Aegon had not been japing. He plunged into her passage forcefully, and with each lunge, forced her whole body to move up the bed. Eventually she felt her head touch the headboard and his continued prodding shoved her back against it. Soon she was in a sitting position in Aegon’s lap and his unrelenting pressure caused the back of her head to bounce off the hard wooden bedstead. Just as it was beginning to become painful, Aegon moaned and she felt his hot seed spill into her womb. He began to relax but she clutched him tightly with her legs and continued to pound against him until her release arrived, and Arya sighed and loosened her grip on his waist as her climax faded.

The young king slid his limp cock out of his new wife and they stared at each other, panting heavily and observing the sweat-soaked hair framing their damp faces. Suddenly Aegon’s face displayed a guilt-filled expression and he muttered, “Arya, I should not have let my anger dictate my behavior. I fear that I have hurt you again.”

Arya pouted at first and accused, “You almost gave me a headache!” as she rubbed the back of her head. But then she smiled and said while blushing, “But I did enjoy that you fucked me so hard. It was exciting and a little scary. Mayhaps we can do that _again_ sometime.”

Aegon’s expression changed and now he grinned at his adventurous bride, “Aye, just give me cause to lose my temper again and I will take you hard, if that is what you want!”

The she-wolf laughed and Aegon sighed, “I wager that you will frequently make me angry.”

“Mayhaps you are right,” she replied with a Sand Snake grin.

Rather than embracing her new husband again, Arya sat up and glanced around the chamber. She saw that thoughtful servants had placed two goblets, a wineskin, and a bowl filled with various fruits and cheeses on a small table close to the bed. Pulling her nightie over her head, Arya got up, prepared a snack for both of them, and returned to the bed, trying to avoid sitting on the numerous wet spots.

Aegon nibbled on a few grapes and a wedge of cheese and took a few sips of wine, rarely letting his gaze waver from his lovely wife, enticing in her lacy, translucent negligée. Finally he spoke, “I think that I am going to like being married to you.”

Arya shyly returned his gaze and replied, “Aye, if I had known fucking was going to be _this_ much fun, I might not have waited but would have attacked you as soon I returned from Dorne.” Then she added, “Sarra said it would be wonderful and she was _so_ right.”

They pressed lips once and continued snacking, comfortably exchanging small talk about the wedding and the feast.

After a while, Arya reached over and stroked Aegon’s thigh, and was pleased to see his cock stiffen and rise up, obviously eager for another adventure. “Aegon,” she began, “Do you remember when we first played the tickling game at Harrenhal?”

“Aye,” he replied, smiling at the memory, and trying to concentrate on her words as she continued to gently stroke his member, “You wore a see-through nightgown, and even though we were so young, I thought that you were adorable. I would have been happy just to cuddle that night, but I was glad that you had other plans. We had so much fun.”

She continued, “Do you remember watching Lady Nym riding Ser Rolly like a horse on his cot?” The image of Nym’s bouncing breasts as she thumped on Duck’s belly had seared itself in his memory.

“I won’t soon forget that either, nor will Ser Rolly!” Aegon’s focus was beginning to limit itself to his throbbing cock in her hand.

Now she became bolder, “Well, I have always wanted to know what that felt like. May I mount you?”

Aegon had become so aroused that he was about to impale the girl, so he immediately rolled on his back and croaked, “Aye, _please_ ride me, _now_!”

Arya climbed over his waist and he seized her hips to help her position herself in place. As she lowered her entrance over his cock and her channel enveloped him, they both simultaneously groaned at the exquisite sensation. The skilled horsewoman began to rock back and forth over him, her eyes closed, her head thrown back as she softly moaned incoherent words and bit her lower lip. Her sweet breasts were not near as large as Lady Nym’s, but they were visibly bouncing under her nightie. Aegon tried to keep his heavily-lidded eyes open to retain the stimulating display within his vision, but it was a difficult task, and as she began to rise and fall more rapidly on his stomach, he muttered, “By the Seven!” convinced he was going to die of pleasure, listening to the sound of wet, slapping flesh as they throbbed against each other.

The pulsations continued until Aegon thought that he could not bear another minute, and suddenly Arya shook her head wildly and shrieked, “Oooooh, fuuuuuuck!” She gripped his shoulders, digging into his flesh with her nails as the muscles of her passage convulsed with her intense orgasm, squeezing his cock and forcing his seed to explode out with an agonizing shudder of his torso.

Their eyes slowly opened and they panted as though they had been running for leagues. Aegon was thoroughly exhausted and thought that he had never felt so drained of energy in his life. Arya’s eyes were shining and she smiled widely, “That was excellent! I can’t wait to tell Lady Nym and Sarra! Lya would like to hear about this, too!”

Aegon’s mind was returning to Earth and he frowned, “Are you going to tell _everyone_ about what we do in private?!”

Arya looked startled, “Nae, only the Sand Snakes. We keep no secrets from each other.”

He shook his head with disapproval, remembering how Sarra had used the excuse of the Bedding ceremony to satisfy her curiosity about his cock as long as she could. Aegon blushed as he recalled how she had even demonstrated his member’s unique characteristics to Margaery Tyrell as all the laughing maidens disrobed him.

Looking back at his bride, he realized that her eyelids were fluttering and she was stifling a yawn with the back of her hand. Gazing sweetly at her new husband, Arya said, “Aegon? I think I need a nap, and then, mayhaps, can we fuck some more?” He was already lying down, and as he enfolded her in his arms, she snuggled into his chest and was instantly asleep, snoring very softly. Aegon kissed her on the top of her unruly head and he was asleep within seconds, also.

Aegon’s eyes cracked open a bit and he noticed that sunrise had not quite arrived. He pondered why he was awake and then realized that Arya was stroking his cock, which was already stiff and vibrating in her hand, damp from touching her wet folds first. They made eye contact, and she shyly inquired, “Do you want to…..?”

Half asleep, he gently shifted her position, climbed over her torso and slid into her warm, wet, and willing slit. Arya sighed as he moved his cock in and out without any urgency, enjoying the sensation of a half-asleep fuck, setting up a slow rhythmic pulsating pattern. The she-wolf matched his motions and they rocked smoothly back and forth, kissing lightly and stroking each other’s body. They moaned quietly with pleasure as they throbbed, and his member was buried deeper and deeper within her channel with each thrust. Soon she felt completely filled by him and Aegon vibrated as her internal muscles clenched his captured cock.

They thrummed slowly for as long as possible, but eventually their sensitive centers began to scream for relief. Their movements became hastier and finally, with drawn out sighs and achingly sweet sensations, release came with luxurious extended orgasms. Aegon kissed her cheek, whispering, “I love you,” and Arya returned his affection.

As they untangled their bodies, they became aware of the murmuring of a gathering crowd in the courtyard below their balcony. The shouts became coherent and they discerned the words, “The sheet! The sheet! Show us the sheet!”

The newlyweds exchanged glances and Aegon said, “Well, shall we get this over with?” Arya nodded and they found some robes to wear, Aegon making sure that Arya’s were not translucent. The young king threw open the balcony doors and a tremendous shout rose up as the smallfolk, servants, and soldiers in the courtyard welcomed the royal couple. Smiling and waving first at their admirers, they ducked back inside the chamber and stripped the bed sheet in question from the featherbed. With each holding one end, they walked it out to the balcony and draped it over the railing. There were more shouts and hoots, and a soldier distinctly called, “Your grace, are you sore this morning?” Arya stuck her tongue out at the lewd man and the crowd roared again. Then a loyal subject started a chant, “All hail King Aegon and Queen Arya!” The crowd joined in and then called out, “Kiss the bride!” They obliged to more cheers. The young couple basked in the admiration for a while, then smiled and waved again, blowing kisses before turning to wash, dress, and prepare to go out in public.

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Before breaking her fast, Arya went to Lady Nym’s chamber. Nym and Sarra were seated and drinking moon tea. Arya ventured, “Please pour me a cup, too.”

Lady Nym did the honors as Sarra asked, “Well?”

Arya smiled and responded, “It was excellent! In fact, as soon as we break our fast, I am going to grab Aegon and drag him back to our bedchamber. Mayhaps we will stay there for a week and have our meals delivered!”

Sarra and Nym laughed and hugged her, and Nym said, “You are truly a woman now, sweetling!”

After finishing their tea, the three Sand Snakes went to the dining hall. Aegon had already arrived, and before he sat at the dais, he allowed the Winterfell youths to accost him and tease him shamelessly, suggesting that he was lucky to have survived the assaults of a Sand Snake. Aegon was so contented that he just smiled at their japes. Then when Arya arrived they watched her wince once with pain as she sat down and started snickering at her. The new bride stuck her tongue out at the rowdy lads in response, which only made them laugh louder. Her mother, with Sansa at her side, asked with some concern in her voice, “Arya, are you all right?”

Arya smiled brightly as she bit into a biscuit, confidently replying, “Never better, Mother, marriage suits me!”

“Aye!” Theon interjected with a smirk, “I’ll wager that his grace is actually worse for wear this morning!” Both Arya and Aegon blushed at his words and the memory of the previous night, but said nothing as their family and friends chuckled at the expense of the newlyweds.

Eventually the conversation turned to the activities of the wedding feast and the dance and the young couple were forgotten for the moment. They made eye contact and Aegon waggled his eyebrows. Arya giggled and rushed over to him, grabbing his hand, and as promised, began to drag him out of his seat. Guffaws were heard from the people seated near Aegon, and Arya spoke to a startled Lord Connington, who had been speaking, “Please excuse us, my lord, as we have an engagement!” Connington actually smiled as he nodded his assent, and they fled the hall followed by ribald comments. The newlyweds had plans that required privacy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Aftermath of the Wedding Feast
> 
> Fan fiction writers are fueled by caffeine and comments.


	65. Aftermath of the Wedding

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 65 Aftermath of the Wedding

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Previously, at the breakfast:

Eventually the conversation turned to the activities of the wedding feast and the dance and the young couple were forgotten for the moment. They made eye contact and Aegon waggled his eyebrows. Arya giggled and rushed over to him, grabbing his hand, and as promised, began to drag him out of his seat. Guffaws were heard from the people seated near Aegon, and Arya spoke to a startled Lord Connington, who had been speaking, “Please excuse us, my lord, as we have an engagement!” Connington actually smiled as he nodded his assent, and they fled the hall followed by ribald comments. The newlyweds had plans that required privacy.

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The Newlyweds

The amorous young couple fled the dining hall, running through the hallways while holding hands and giggling. Anyone they passed turned around and smiled as the newlyweds rushed by. A maidservant called after them, “Your graces, there are fresh sheets on your bed!” Later in the bedchamber, they found the bloodstained sheet from the previous night neatly folded on a chair, a souvenir of the consummation.

As soon as the door closed behind them, Aegon pressed Arya against it and kissed her deeply. The mischievous Sand Snake murmured, “Ummmm, Gendry wanted to pound me into this door.” Without a word, Aegon reached into her robe, loosened the laces of her smallclothes and pushed them down while dropping _his_ breeches and underwear at the same time. He placed his hand over her slit and was pleased to learn that his wife was very wet and ready for him. Placing his hands on the shapely globes of her arse, he lifted her off the floor, entered her decisively with a grunt and started pounding as she had desired. Arya raised her muscular legs and snugly wrapped them around his waist. As he pressed deeper, she squeezed him more tightly both outside with her strong thighs and inside with the trained muscles of her channel. Reeling from the intensity of her grip on his cock, Aegon recoiled from the door with a spinning motion, crashing into a nearby table and chair, knocking the furniture over and sending clothes and crockery to the floor, and then bouncing off the side of the featherbed and finally colliding into another chair before falling down in a heap, moaning loudly all the while.

An alarmed Ser Rolly knocked loudly and called out, “Your graces, is aught amiss?! Are you all right?!” Hearing no answer, only continued moans from inside, he pushed open the door in a panic, fearing he would find an assassin with a bloodstained blade. However, the sworn shield was confronted with a sight he would have preferred not to have witnessed. The newlyweds were entangled on the floor in a heap of disordered furniture, broken pottery, and jumbled clothing. Arya was at the bottom of the pile, with her stocking-clad legs poking up into the air, and Aegon’s bare arse thumping up and down vigorously as he feverishly pumped into his new wife. The young king had learned the previous evening that he favored Arya’s appearance dressed in naught but her white silk stockings with red ribbons for garters.

Arya responded in a vibrating voice, “Nevvvvver bettttttter, Serrrrr Rolllly! Arrrrrgh! Oh, Gods! Oooooh, Goooods! Whew! Oh, my! Oh, my!”

Embarrassed, Duck turned and closed the door behind him, thinking, _I wish I had not heard that! I wonder if Obara is occupied?_ Then his imagination took over, _I wonder if she has white silk stockings with red garters?_

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Previously, during the wedding dance:

Perros was whispering in Lyanna’s ear and he bit her earlobe gently, and she looked at him wide-eyed but nodded in agreement to whatever he had suggested. He squeezed her arse as they made their way off the dance floor.

In a panic, Theon was pleading with urgency and anguish in his whining voice, “Please, Sarra, please stop Perros from dishonoring Lyanna! I cannot bear to imagine what will happen if they go off together alone right now!”

Sarra looked at him shrewdly, “So you do not desire to bed me and are only concerned with Lyanna’s virtue?”

Theon dropped his gaze and blushed with embarrassment, muttering, “I confess that I care for the she-bear more that I have been willing to admit, and I realize that she matters more to me than any other girl.”

The Sand Snake smiled conspiratorially as she replied, “Fear not, squid prince, I think we can rescue your damsel in distress!” She took his hand and they set off after Perros and Lyanna.

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Lyanna and Theon Resolve their Differences

As a traditional bride, Arya had every reason to be pleased with the wedding dance. Father, Lord Jon, and Uncle Edmure all beamed at her and told her how proud they were. She felt very grown up. She took a spin with Ser Rolly, her very first friend in the Targaryen encampment, and he swore that he had known almost immediately that she was a special person, and was not surprised how well she had matured. Bokko was extremely irreverent, and his japes made her laugh for a long time.

She danced with her siblings, first Robb, who declared that his sisters were no doubt the most beautiful maidens in Westeros, and young Rickon, who smirked, “You look like a princess, but not a fairy tale princess,” pointing out the numerous wine and food stains besmirching her white silk robe.

Even usually crass Theon, whom was almost as a brother to her, became sentimental and marveled how the rowdy tomboy he had played with and teased at Winterfell had developed into such an attractive and accomplished young woman.

She danced with the star-struck lads, Adrian and Artos, who gazed at her with admiration, and said that she was so lovely and hoped that she would be happy with Aegon.

In turn, Gendry and Ned Dayne held her gently as they waltzed, but the young men barely spoke, for their eyes revealed affection as well as friendship for her. Arya realized that her relationships with both adoring youths would always be complicated.

Arya’s one regret was that her favorite brother, Jon Snow, could not attend the wedding. Jon had taken his vows with the Night’s Watch years ago, and after surviving several hazardous adventures had emerged as the Lord Commander of the fabled army sworn to protect the realm. As the leader, Jon would never have the opportunity to travel to King’s Landing. She had exchanged frequent letters with Jon, and now thought, _Aegon and I must visit him as soon as we can. It will not be too difficult if we travel on the back of a dragon._

Other couples had enjoyed the dance also. Ned Dayne and Sarra Martell shared a growing affection for each other which was obvious as they waltzed, and the same was true for Jon Connington and Nymeria Sand. The guests shared a hearty laugh when an impatient and aroused Obara Sand grabbed Duck’s breeches by the belt and pulled him out of the Hall.

Some of the younger couples made their way to the Godswood for some intimacy and privacy as the evening progressed. Adrian Byrch had made the acquaintance of Margaery Tyrell’s outgoing and curvaceous younger cousin Megga prior to the coronation, and they had first kissed following the coronation feast. This evening bold Megga loosened the laces of her bodice, and a delighted Adrian took the opportunity to lavish attention to her breasts as well as kiss her lips.

Since the coronation feast, Artos Flint had become friendlier to another of Margaery’s young cousins, demure and pretty Alla Tyrell, and now the couple had wandered out into the Godswood for their first experience at sweet kisses and chaste caresses.

Margaery Tyrell and Quentyn Martell were also walking and talking in the Godswood, but they were discretely accompanied by chaperones. Rumors were beginning to spread that their betrothal would soon be announced by King Aegon and Queen Daenerys, helping to unite the realm, and the rules of propriety were being strictly observed.

Perros Blackmont and Lyanna Mormont wandered out into the Godswood from the dance floor. As they walked among the trees, Perros became bolder and started to stroke the young girl’s arse in a circular motion with one hand and entwine her fingers with the other, while whispering amorous suggestions and licking the shell of her ear. Lyanna giggled and blushed as she wrapped her free hand around his waist, falling under the spell of the seductive Dornishman. He was just about to turn and kiss her deeply, knowing that at that point he could probably have his way with the hot-blooded lass, when Sarra and Theon caught up with them. Sarra called out, “Perros, one moment! Theon would like to have a word with Lyanna!”

The embracing couple turned around in surprise, and Lyanna automatically scowled at Theon, but then observed how disheveled, anguished, and dejected he appeared to be. Theon rushed to Lyanna and dropped to his knees in front of her. Perros had disengaged himself from the she-bear and Theon grasped both of her hands, pleading, “Lyanna, sweetling, I have been a fool for not being honest with you! I know you think me a hopeless flirt, but I confess that since you rejected me one month ago I have lost my desire to pursue other girls and have looked on with pain in my heart as other boys woo you. I cannot stand being shut out of your life anymore and beg you to accept me back, for I believe that I am ready to forswear my roving nature and pledge my love to you!” Tears were running down his cheeks as he spoke and Theon had never appeared so serious in his feckless life. The thought of Perros seducing her had completely unnerved him.

Lyanna saw that he was being as honest as possible and realized that as much as she liked to be adventurous and dally with other boys, before their quarrel she and Theon had started developing a comfortable relationship with mutual understanding. Her irate attitude towards him softened and she drew him closer, murmuring, “If you speak truly, I will forgive you.” Theon smiled and wiped his face with his sleeves, moving in for a kiss. Their lips touched, they hugged, and suddenly the pair was back in the Godswood of Winterfell again, kissing for the first time. Theon felt immense relief at holding her in his arms again and Lyanna welcomed his familiar embrace.

Sarra had told Lyanna that Perros was a skillful lover, and before Theon had appeared the she-bear had decided to let the amorous Dornish lad demonstrate his skill, short of surrendering her maidenhead. Now she turned to Perros, pecked him on the cheek, and said, “Thank you, Perros, I appreciate your attention, but Theon is really the boy I like best, and I am satisfied with him.”

Sarra and Perros watched Lyanna and Theon walk back to the castle, oblivious to everything except each other. Perros gave Sarra a wistful smile and said, “You know, Sarra, it was not easy to release that sweet young thing. Lyanna’s body is almost as tempting as yours and she was just panting for my attention. I was beginning to look forward to a delightful bout of lovemaking.”

“I am sorry, Perros,” the Sand Snake answered, “I knew that I was asking you for a big favor in helping Arya and I get those two back together again, and although we were successful, you were the one left frustrated.”

“Aye,” Perros replied, looking at her pointedly, “I am _quite_ unfulfilled and require satisfaction.”

Sarra returned his gaze, reflecting on her old friend’s dilemma. They had been intimate regularly since their thirteenth year, frequently at the Water Garden and most recently on the Boneway from Dorne. Of course, once Sarra had fixated on Ned Dayne, she broke off relations with the squire. Ned was spending the wedding feast with his bannermen, as he had recently been neglecting his duties as Lord Dayne of Starfall and needed to make amends. “Well,” the Sand Snake purred, “we will have to _satisfy_ your needs somehow. Why don’t we go to your pavilion and talk about all the good times we have had together?” She took his arm and they sauntered out of the Godswood, intent on their own wedding celebration.

Still embracing, Theon and Lyanna entered the chamber Theon shared with Robb. Once the door was closed, they kissed deeply, savoring the experience. Theon murmured, “I missed you so much. No maiden has ever captured my heart the way you have, and I never expected to _need_ a girl so much!”

Lyanna observed that she had never seen the japing youth so serious and he seemed to be genuinely relieved to be back in her good graces. She stood back from him and said, “Long ago I promised that if you vowed to be mine I would reveal myself to you.” Then she opened her silk robes and let them fall away, exposing her lush breasts and torso. Theon gasped at the sight. Her Northern skin was as pale as ivory and as he gently cupped the large round globes that completely filled his hands, he discovered how delightfully soft they felt. Lyanna was a head shorter and three namedays younger than Sarra and Sansa, but with her large bosom, narrow waist, and wide hips she was just as alluring and womanly as the older maidens.

He leaned in to kiss her soft breasts and as he stroked her body, he learned that her arms and thighs were firm and strong from constant exercise. Theon first buried his face into her cleavage, enjoying how pleasingly her breasts warmed his cheeks, and then drew back to kiss and nibble on her coin-sized pink teats. Lyanna gripped his head and moaning with pleasure, whispered, “Yes! Like that! Bite just a little harder!”

He complied and then, lifting his lips from her damp teats, laid his head on her breasts, offering, “Your bosom is the softest and most delightful pillow I have ever found.”

“Just don’t fall asleep on me!” Lyanna retorted with a smile.

Theon responded by raising his head and kissing her gently and lovingly. As their tongues danced, he thought, _Lyanna tastes like ripe apples in autumn!_ As his gaze traveled over the length of her voluptuous body, he reflected, _What an idiot I have been for denying my attraction for this sweet girl! I could not ask for more!_ As they kissed, he realized that her hand had slipped into his smallclothes and had started stroking his stiffening cock, very much as if she were exploring its characteristics. The lad returned the favor and discovered that her slit was wet and hot, and as he easily slid two fingers inside of her, she moaned loudly and gripped his fingers with surprising pressure.

Lyanna’s face was damp and shining and she shyly asked, “Theon, do you know ‘The Lord’s Kiss’?”

The squid prince had mostly bedded the ‘working girls’ of Wintertown’s brothels, and had not desired to gift them with such a kiss. However, several of his conquests had been innocent kitchen maids and handmaidens of the castle, and he had delighted some with the skill of his tongue. He nodded and replied, “Aye, would you like me to attend you now?”

The passionate she-bear eagerly responded, “Oh yes! Please! Right now!” as she reached down to slide off her delicate silk smallclothes.

Theon marveled at his first glimpse of the damp, pink folds of her secret place, and just as he licked his lips and leaned in to kiss the flower of her womanhood, Robb burst into the chamber waving a wineskin and singing, drunkenly slurring his words, “The bear! The bear! All black and brown and covered with hair!” He stopped singing and blurted while waggling his eyebrows, “Oh my, oh my, what have we here?”

Blushing considerably, Lyanna was hastily pulling up her smallclothes and drawing her robes around her, but not before Robb had a quick glance at her curvaceous torso and impressive breasts and spontaneously directed a pang of jealousy towards Theon, who rapidly regained his feet with a flushed and embarrassed expression. _By the gods!_ Robb could not help thinking, _that little girl really **is** as shapely as Sarra Martell! Theon is a fortunate lad!_

Regaining his composure and trying not to stare as she adjusted her clothes, Robb continued, “Well, I am relieved to see that the two of you have resolved your differences. Lady Lyanna, I must inform you that Theon has been no fun while he was moping around and pining for you like a lovesick calf. It will be a pleasure to see a smile on his face again.”

Theon blushed and inquired, “Was I really that bad?”

“Worse,” replied his friend with a smile.

Lyanna cleared her throat, obviously uncomfortable at having been caught unclothed. Theon looked at her and observing her distress, uttered, “Pardon us, Robb, I am going to escort Lady Lyanna to her chamber. It has been a long day.”

Earlier that day, Lyanna had transferred some of her things to Lady Nym’s suite, where she would share living quarters with the Sand Snakes, as part of her training. She directed Theon to the proper chamber when they left his own. The temporary home of the Dornish women was empty when they arrived, with only a few candles burning. The she-bear turned in his arms, expecting a ‘good morrow’ kiss, but Theon had other plans. Embracing her tightly and pressing his chest against her bosom, he whispered into her ear while licking its shell, “Do you still fancy that ‘Lord’s Kiss?”

The she-bear’s eyes widened and she felt a tingle in her warm center, “Aye! I do!”

“Then let us not waste another minute!” Theon responded while pulling his tunic over his head.

Just as quickly, Lyanna threw off her robes, discarded her smallclothes and eagerly fell back on the nearest bed. “Now where was I?” Theon asked rhetorically and dropped to his knees. Seeing the girl’s legs spread wide in anticipation, and her slit glistening with moisture, he immediately penetrated her with his tongue, thrusting it in as deeply as possible while molding his lips to her nether ones. Lyanna released a loud moan and squeezed his head with her powerful thighs. The pressure was enough to cause the boy to worry that she might crack his skull, but she soon relaxed her grip.

Theon fondled one breast, squeezing the teat, and caressed her mound with his other hand, pressing on her nub. It did not take long for the passionate maiden to achieve a violent orgasm, and she exclaimed, “Oh, Theon! That was wonderful! More! More! Please don’t stop!” while grinding her hot, wet center into his face. Theon obliged and continued to pleasure her, savoring how she moaned and quivered against his face. He was so aroused that when he reached within his smallclothes and touched himself, he ejaculated immediately.

As Theon endeavored to bring Lyanna to a second sweet release, the door flew open and Lady Nym entered. She stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes widened in disbelief and she exclaimed, “Oh my, oh my, what have we here? My sweet little Lyanna is being pleasured by the Northern boy of her dreams. Delightful!” As she regained her composure, Theon looked up in surprise, his face glistening with the she-bear’s juices, and Nym continued smoothly, “Don’t let me interrupt you. In fact, let me help you!”

Moving swiftly to the bed, the Sand Snake grabbed a pillow and ordered, “Theon, lift up Lyanna’s arse and let me slide this pillow underneath her. Now you will have better access to her privates. Am I correct?” Theon tried to nod agreement as he continued to suck and probe. Lyanna moaned even louder. Lady Nym was an incorrigible tutor, demonstrating as she instructed, “Now, Theon, touch her breasts and teats thusly, Ooooh, Lyanna, you possess a delicious bosom. I _insist_ you come to my bed tomorrow night! And now, Theon, fondle her mound and nub like this!” Lyanna shrieked with pleasure and pulsated against his face with even more insistence. “Ah, see? I was right! Well, enjoy yourselves, sweet children, I will go socialize a bit more. Good night!” And kissing both youths on the top of their heads, she left the room.

As soon as the door closed, Lyanna’s second orgasm arrived, and she almost suffocated Theon as she vigorously came. The she-bear released his head and lay back, panting heavily, her eyes half-closed with exhaustion. Theon leaned over her and kissed her mouth, murmuring, “Have I sufficiently demonstrated my affection for you, my lady?”

“Aye,” the contented apprentice Sand Snake replied, “and tomorrow I will gift you with ‘The Lady’s Kiss’ as Sarra and Arya have taught me.”

“I would like that,” Theon replied with a smile. They cuddled a while as their breathing returned to normal, and he kissed her nose and left, as they were both emotionally and physically drained. _Well,_ Lyanna thought, as she pulled a new silk nightie over her head, _that was a very satisfying evening!_ and fell asleep almost immediately.

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Queen Arya

Because she was now a queen, Arya had her own personal solar. As a child, before she knew better, she had played ‘Lady of the Castle’ with the other girls. However, Sansa was _always_ the ‘lady’ and Jeyne and Arya were either guests or servants. Now Arya was officially ‘the lady of the castle’, and she thought that it was much fun to play the game. Her sister was her first guest, and as Arya poured the tea, Sansa ventured, “I know that Gendry is distracted by you and that you like to toy with him, but I am no longer jealous. Gendry has shown me how much he loves me.” Sansa blushed and lowered her voice to a whisper as she described how Gendry had gifted her with her first ‘Lord’s Kiss’. She suspected that her Sand Snake sister was no stranger to such a practice and would not be embarrassed. She was correct, as Arya heartily congratulated her sister and hoped that Gendry would continue to pleasure her. The young queen added, “If you like, I will teach you how to give Gendry ‘the Lady’s Kiss’ so you can return the favor.” Sansa inhaled deeply at the thought but nodded assent and Arya enthusiastically announced, “Wait here! I am going to fetch a carrot from the kitchen!” As she bolted out the door, Sansa thought, _a carrot?_ And then with a blush, _Oh, my!_

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Restoring Order

With the lengthy war over and the coronation and royal wedding behind them, Lord Jon, Queen Daenerys, and King Aegon decided that it was time to address the assembled lords and ladies as to the state of the kingdom before most of them returned to their own lands. After a brief consultation with the hastily assembled, temporary Small Council, comprised of themselves, Lord Stark, Lords Baratheon, General Obara and Lady Nym, Lord Varys, and Master of Coin Edoryen, to discuss the major issues, they called a meeting of the lords and major members of court to proclaim their vision for life in Westeros.

The leaders of the realm gathered in the Throne Room of the Red Keep and looking towards the dais, they noted that the Iron Throne was empty and Queen Daenerys and King Aegon sat on smaller wooden thrones several steps below it. Lord Jon Connington, the Hand of the King and Queen, stood behind them. Rumors had spread that the new rulers considered the Iron Throne to be a symbol of oppression and not representative of their attitudes.

Queen Daenerys stood up and began speaking. “Lords and ladies of Westeros, victors of the war, and foreign emissaries, welcome to the new regime. I speak for myself and King Aegon, and with the approval of our Small Council, declare that the theme of our joint Targaryen rule is ‘mutual trust and reconciliation’. Our goal is to heal the wounds and end the grudges that have developed between many of our Great Houses. Westeros can only be prosperous and our people happy if there is no longer enmity in the land.”

“To achieve that goal we have approved and encouraged betrothals between several highborn youths from the various kingdoms. The marriage of Aegon Targaryen and Arya Stark is a prime example of our intentions. The North and the South have been adversaries for far too long, and their wedding, in effect, reunited the country. Some of you may not know that Lady Arya is a favorite daughter of the vassals of Winterfell, and they are now ardent supporters of the Targaryen court now that their ‘wolf girl’ is part of it.”

“The marriage of Aegon and Arya also maintains our thesis in that it is based on love and not political machinations. The participants and their families are enthusiastic about their union and do not consider it just a game of cyvasse.”

The mood in the hall had been solemn as Daenerys spoke, but suddenly a jocular voice from the audience interrupted her. “Aye, we are well aware of their love, for they have demonstrated it in the Godswood, the kitchens, the stables, the armory, and no doubt on the Iron Throne!” Daenerys smiled as general laughter filled the air at the expense of the newlyweds, who blushed intensely at the courtier's words.

Arya was sitting with the other members of the royal party one step below the king and queen, and she flashed a grin, announcing, “Nae, we have not been on the Iron Throne, but that is an interesting suggestion.”

Daenerys continued, “We look forward to other successful matches that will further unite the lands. Future betrothals will include Robb Stark of Winterfell and Shireen Baratheon of Dragonstone, and Margaery Tyrell of Highgarden and Quentyn Martell of Sunspear. The Greyjoys of the Iron Islands have also shown their desire to join the new regime by supporting the betrothal of Theon Greyjoy to Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island. We can only hope that by joining so many families, we can all work towards a common goal.”

“We have also decided to reconcile with Casterly Rock by inviting Lord Kevan Lannister’s daughter, Janei, to join our court as a lady in waiting. Now on to less pleasant business; Lord Connington, our Hand, will discuss the financial state of the kingdom.”

The queen sat down and Lord Jon moved to the front to speak. “We have consulted with the Master of Coin, inspected the royal treasury, and reviewed the outstanding loans, trade agreements, and treaties. Now I am going take the unusual step of introducing my assistant, Sarra Martell of Sunspear, to describe the details. To those who are not acquainted with Sarra and think that she appears to merely be a simple young maiden barely past childhood, I assure you that she has the intelligence, education, and motivation to be my second. She has close rapport with the royal family and will be an excellent helpmeet for them. Sarra, the floor is yours.”

Sarra, dressed in modest silks and subdued makeup, took Lord Jon’s place by the royals as Jon stepped back, and began, “I regret that I must open with unpleasant information. The royal treasury is empty, as King Robert loved celebrations and tourneys, and spared no expense, taking out loans when there were no more coins in the vault. Meaning no disrespect, the late king, himself sneered that he was not one to ‘count coppers’, and unfortunately that attitude was not good for the kingdom. The previous Master of Coin declined to challenge the king, and simply pleased him by enlarging the national debt.”

She stopped to take a breath and let this sink in. There were shocked murmurings about the state of the finances, but Sarra was pleased with the respect the audience had for her. She continued, “The good news is that the large loans taken from Houses Lannister and Tyrell have been forgiven as part of their surrender agreement, and these two prosperous Houses will pay higher tithes to the royal treasury for several years. Tithes for the other kingdoms will return to the reasonable ten percent of annual yield that was the previous standard before King Robert raised it.”

Sarra paused again as more contented murmurings were spreading through the hall, and then proceeded. “There are still existing large loans taken from the Iron Bank of Braavos, but agreements for more affordable payments are being negotiated. To that effect, information will be gathered ascertaining the state of productivity and needs of the people of the various kingdoms of Westeros.”

Queen Daenerys stood up now and said, “Thank you, Sarra. I am sure the financial matters are clearer now.” Addressing the audience, she continued, “Her last remark leads into what I have to say next about what you can expect out of King’s Landing. As you now know, I spent most of my time across the Narrow Sea as the ruler of several armies and cities, and feel confident that I am a capable administrator, directing your government with the help of the Hand, Jon Connington, and the Small Council. King Aegon and Queen Arya will go on a progress, meaning that their honeymoon will be a sort of ‘working vacation’. They will travel throughout Westeros, exploring the land, observing the welfare of the people and learning about local productivity, listening to grievances and needs, and will report back to us as needed. Thank you, that is all.”

There seemed to be general approval in the hall for the queen’s words, and chatter erupted as the ladies discussed what it would be like to host the lively young couple as they traveled.

Now that the official speeches were over, more relaxed conversations commenced and servants appeared bearing wineskins, trays of goblets, and canapés. Almost immediately, Sarra found herself surrounded by several young lords and squires, eager to make her acquaintance, and it was obvious that they wished to court her. She was very amused by the attention, while taking a sideways glance to observe Ned Dayne’s reaction. He was standing amidst the other nobles in the gallery and appeared to be frowning. The skillful Sand Snake appeased all the courteous youths and then graciously excused herself. Moving over to Ned’s side, she squeezed his arm and kissed his cheek. “Do I detect some jealousy?” she smirked.

Young Lord Dayne frowned again and replied, “I didn’t like the way those lads leered at you. I thought it was disrespectful.”

Sarra was quite used to leering men and just said confidently, “Let them ogle all they want. I am quite content with your affection. In fact, since my official obligations are over for a moment, why don’t we take a private walk?”

Ned returned her amorous gaze with a smile and agreed, “That is an excellent idea!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: There is more to discuss along these themes, but then a change in direction. You shall see.


	66. Life in the Red Keep

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 66 Life in the Red Keep

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When the excitement of the wedding settled down, Sansa’s culture club and needlework group resumed to their regular schedule, and life in the Red Keep for the young people returned to normal. The newlyweds, however, were dismayed to find that they were being treated like children again.

Both Aegon and Arya were to continue their lessons with the maester, and found themselves in the classroom every morning. They were not alone in their ‘suffering’ though, as the Winterfell youths were expected to attend classes also until their ship returned the Stark party to the North. The adults responsible for all these young people felt that they still needed as much formal education as possible. The only exceptions were, Ned Dayne, since as Lord of Starfall; he had responsibilities to his bannermen and the court, and Sarra, because she was working full time with Lord Connington the Hand now. The other youths were jealous of Ned and Sarra.

One morning Arya became bored with Haldon’s history lesson, as it was about dull politics and not warfare and bloodshed. When he turned his back to write his main points on the chalkboard, she hissed at her mate, “Aegon!” Aegon looked at her as she waggled her eyebrows and opened the lower portion of her silk robe, revealing a shapely leg clad in a white silk stocking with a red ribbon garter.

As Theon, Robb, Gendry, Adrian, and Artos all gasped and stared with delight, Lyanna suppressed a giggle. Aegon turned red and whispered loudly, “Arya! Not here!”

Sansa glared at her shameless sister and scolded, “Arya! Stop it! You are being indecent!”

Now the boys suppressed chuckles and Arya just grinned at all of them. Then Lyanna whispered, “Theon!” When the lad turned his attention to the bold she-bear, she revealed a shapely bare leg from under _her_ robe. Theon grinned and winked at her as Arya giggled loudly.

Haldon spun around and sharply accused, “Lady Arya! Focus on the lesson, please!”

Arya replied sweetly, with large innocent eyes, “Beg pardon, Maester Haldon, but might Aegon and I be excused? We have an activity scheduled.”

The agitated schoolmaster snapped, “Nae, you may not be excused! I have observed the two of you for almost four years now, and I am positive that you are simply referring to another biology lesson! Now please return your attention to academics, and not physical exercises!”

Arya appeared surprised at his response, Aegon flushed red with embarrassment, and Sansa continued to frown, but all the other youths could no longer suppress their giggles, amused by ribald thoughts concerning the recently married couple. The adolescents were, however, jealous of the newlyweds because _they_ were all reminded constantly to remain chaste, and Arya and Aegon could now fornicate anytime and as often as they wanted and often did. The loyalists who were hoping for an immediate Targaryen heir actually encouraged them to copulate frequently. Arya did not advertise the fact that she regularly drank her moon tea, being quite convinced that she was too young to bear a babe and that being a mother would in any case interfere with her fun.

The young queen did eventually get what she had desired. Later that evening, as the newlyweds were doing their homework together in their chamber, Arya shut her books, pulled Aegon’s chair away from the table and climbed into his lap. She sat facing him and reached under her robes to loosen the laces of his breeches and smallclothes. The young king exclaimed in surprise, “Arya, you are not wearing any smallclothes!”

Arya smirked, “Aye, why waste any time?!” as she drew out his cock and stroked it while leaning in for a kiss. Within a few minutes they were coupling in the chair, which bounced against the floor with their movements, increasing the pressure building between them and helping them to soon achieve mutual satisfaction. Afterwards Arya purred, “That was nice! And we have discovered another new position! Should we inform Maester Haldon that we have found a new way to do homework?”

Aegon’s eyes returned to focus and he snorted, “I do not think Haldon would appreciate your jape. He was quite flustered today.”

The impudent Sand Snake replied innocently, “I’m only trying to make his life more interesting.”

“That you are, sweetling, that you are,” Aegon replied, kissing her forehead.

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Besides academics, the youngsters were also expected to continue their weaponry lessons each afternoon. As previously arranged, those sparring lessons were individually tailored to each youth. Most of the young men simply met Ser Rolly in the armory and followed the same patterns that had been designed by Ser Rodrik Cassel at Winterfell, and Aegon, Arya, and Lyanna joined them.

Ser Rodrik also supervised archery lessons, which was much fun as the teenagers were very competitive and enthusiastic with bows and arrows. Theon continued to be the most successful archer and advised the others. The other lads snickered when the squid prince, in his typical fashion, teased Arya, Sansa, and Lyanna, as he instructed them. There was an incident the boys would always remember, when the master-at-arms had to scold Theon for becoming too intimate with an amused Lyanna during archery lessons, and they all hooted, “Get a room!”

Rickon, the youngest Stark sibling, possessed eight namedays and had been begging his lady mother to allow him to begin sparring. After much pleading, Lady Stark finally assented. With tears in her eyes, she told her lord husband, who had supported the idea, “My last babe is growing up!”

Arya continued her own personal training program. Besides sparring in the Westerosi style with Ser Rolly, and having him observe her spear work, she worked with Lady Nym at knives, double short swords, and horsemanship. She resumed her favorite activity – the practice of graceful water dancing with Bokko. The impudent sellsword still japed with the she-wolf, but now that she was a married woman, he became even more ribald in his remarks and was pleased when he could actually embarrass the bold girl. He did get sentimental once, japing about her very first lesson. Aegon had been present at the time, and Bokko commented, “When his grace accosted me about fondling you, I knew he was lost.”

Arya also made time to spar with her new friend Lyanna; the athletic maidens still enjoyed vigorously smacking each other with wooden sticks, trying to outwit their opponent with acrobatic movements or experimental sparring tactics. As usual, their encounters were followed by massage sessions in the steam baths which they relished as much as the fighting. Arya loved her Sand Snake ‘sister’ Sarra, but the Dornish girl was older, and Lyanna was much closer to her own age and shared Arya’s main interests and attitude. As a result, the two girls had quickly become very close friends.

One afternoon, as they held each other in the baths, Arya kissed her friend and said, “I am going to miss you when you are gone. We have had much fun together.”

Lyanna grinned, squeezed her breasts, and replied conspiratorially, “You will just have to spar with Aegon and then bring _him_ to the baths afterwards.” Then she grinned, “Mayhaps you will not miss _our_ massage sessions as much.”

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Arya also sparred with Brienne of Tarth, Lord Renly Baratheon’s sworn shield. A woman warrior was rare enough in the southern region of Westeros outside of Dorne, and one that filled the role of a sworn shield was non-existent except for Lady Brienne. Arya had been intrigued by the hulking and strong, but shy and soft-spoken, older maiden, with as many namedays as Lady Nym, and had made it a point to engage her. The she-wolf felt that the practice yard would be the best place to interact, and as they parried and traded blows, Brienne instructing Arya in her style of Westerosi swordplay, Arya started the conversation. The female knight opened up to the respectful young fighter, and described her lord father’s insults and opposition to her choice of a lifestyle. The younger girl’s eyes widened as Lady Brienne bitterly described Lord Tarth’s humiliating attempts to find a husband for his daughter and the contempt she received from her suitors. Her childhood had been miserable and she had only been happy while learning swordplay, which invited the scorn of all the women in her life and sneers from the men. Acceptance as a ‘knight’ by Lord Renly was the best thing that had ever happened to her and yet she still had to suffer the ill will of Renly’s other knights and bannermen.

As Sansa and others had pointed out, Arya now realized that her understanding father had indulged and protected her, even with Mother and septa complaining constantly about her unladylike behavior. She considered herself very fortunate and made a mental note to thank him profusely at her first opportunity.

Brienne and Arya discussed how difficult it was for talented women to succeed in the face of traditional hostility of patriarchal Westeros. Queen Cersei had been the perfect example of how an intelligent and ambitious woman could turn into an angry, selfish, vengeful harpy in such a society. Arya described her experiences in Sunspear and Lady Brienne saw the irony of how allowing women to reach their full potential along the side of men made Dorne a much more balanced culture. The women warriors agreed that it was a pity that the rest of Westeros could not learn from the example set by Dorne, and many lords were suspicious of powerful Dornish women.

Arya felt sad about the hardships that Lady Brienne had suffered and touched her arm, saying that things were bound to improve. The younger girl optimistically related, “Queen Daenerys is fair and practical, with a real talent for leadership, Sarra Martell will show that the Hand of the king or queen can be female, and the Sand Snakes, Lady Nym and General Obara, have also demonstrated that women can be good leaders.”

The world-weary female knight smiled when the young queen added with a hard edge in her voice that she intended to confront the Citadel and convince them to train female maesters as well. She observed the passionate adolescent and responded, “I am encouraged by your determination and I hope what you say comes to pass. I would like living in such a kingdom.”

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Soon after the wedding Lyanna sparred with Theon, and when they were both sweaty and tired, she smirked as she led him to the steam baths. Once they were alone, she ordered him to strip off his clothes and did the same herself, boldly standing naked before him. Theon marveled at how voluptuous the she-bear appeared and immediately became tumescent. Lyanna glanced at him critically and commented, “Hmm, you have a nice size and shape. You are not Gendry, but nice, anyway. I think you will fit me snugly when we are wed.”

Startled, Theon asked, “How do you know about the size of Gendry’s cock?”

Lyanna answered, “Never you mind. Now sit down by the side of the bath. I promised to gift you with the ‘Lady’s Kiss’.”

His eyes widened and Theon eagerly complied, his cock bouncing as he dropped to the warm but hard stone floor. Lyanna entered the water and moved in front of him, first taking his member in her hand and stroking it as she recalled Arya’s and Sarra’s instructions. She took it into her mouth and began to stimulate his cock with her tongue and lips, fondling his sac and Theon’s eyes closed as he moaned with pleasure.

Just as Lyanna’s actions became more rapid and Theon groaned louder, the newlyweds entered the chamber. Arya’s voice was echoing off of the walls, “It’s like the Water Gardens in Dorne where we always swam in the nude. You will get used to it.” As she dropped her robe, she turned to Aegon and said, “Oh my, we are not alone! Well met, Lyanna! Nae, don’t try to answer as I see you are occupied. Hmm, nice technique. Theon certainly seems pleased.”

Lyanna merely made eye contact with her friend as she continued to work, and Theon tried to ignore the rude interruption and focus on Lyanna’s efforts.

The arrivals were now both naked and Arya stood behind Aegon reaching around to stroke his stiffening cock. “What say you, _husband_? Shall I service you too?” Aegon appeared to hesitate and she added, “Don’t be shy. These are our friends and there are no secrets between us.” The young king looked doubtful, but his member had already decided that Arya’s attention was all that mattered and he nodded agreement.

The aroused boy sat down by the side of the bath as Arya walked into the water and waded over to him. As she passed the she-bear, she looked in closely and suggested, “Lya, use your teeth, too. I think Theon would like that.”

Lyanna immediately did so and Theon shouted, “Oh Gods!” Arya began to pleasure her own man and in a short while both lads were emitting a duet of delighted moans. Afterwards, both couples relaxed in the water, sitting on the underwater bench. Each boy held a girl in his lap, cupping her breasts and kissing the back of her neck, hinting that there was to be more intimacy in the immediate future.

Arya started a conversation in a teasing fashion, relating to her friend, “At Winterfell I went swimming naked with the boys and Theon used to make suggestive comments to me. Robb would get mad and punch him but that didn’t stop him from asking me if I wanted to touch his cock and if I desired for him to touch me.”

Theon smiled at the memory, “Aye, you were a forward child and I loved to tease you. You never became flustered as your genteel sister did. Instead, you would get angry and try to hurt me. I had to be wary of your little fists and toy sword!”

“That’s right, you were wise to fear me!” Arya replied.

“Even with your dirty face, tangled hair, and ill-fitting boy’s clothing, I still thought you were cute,” the squid prince reminisced, “but I never thought someday you would possess the body of a temptress.” He raked his eyes over her, plainly staring at her breasts and mound, “You are not hard to look at now, wolf girl!”

“Oh, do you like my figure, Theon?” she purred, climbing out of the water and striking a seductive pose on the deck, breasts thrust out in front of her.

“Aye!” Theon exclaimed, not even hiding the lust in his eyes, “Would there was an artist present to draw me a picture of you to display on my wall!”

Lyanna climbed out of the water and added, “I can do that too!” She copied Arya’s pose and her larger breasts were quite an irresistible sight in Theon’s eyes. “You are magnificent, sweetling! Come closer so I can kiss you!” Lyanna crawled over to him and they started tangling tongues immediately. The she-bear found Arya’s gaze and motioned with her eyes that she should leave.

The wolf girl understood and grabbed the young king’s hand, saying, “Aegon, why don’t we return to our bedchamber and prepare for dinner?” It was obvious that dinner was not the only thing on her mind.

Aegon had been mesmerized by the kissing couple, Theon still in the water and the naked and lovely Lyanna lying on the deck. He shook his head as his senses returned and the newlyweds quickly dressed and departed.

“At last we are alone!” Theon said as he helped Lyanna climb back into the water, hoping that there would be no further interruptions to their fondling. For once the couple was lucky and there were no disturbances when Lyanna was gifted with Theon’s ‘Lord’s Kiss’.

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The Masquerade Ball

After the wedding, many nobles made plans to return to their homes. Lord Stark announced that his party was to sail back to the North in two weeks. With the coronation and the wedding, some guests had been in King’s Landing for three turns of the moon. The celebrations had been very entertaining, but it was time for them to return to their normal lives, Lord Ned sadly told his charges. Lady Stark agreed but was disappointed that she would have to part with her younger daughter, whom she had only recently been reunited with after an absence of more than three years. There was the remote possibility that Arya might bear a babe, and Lady Catelyn would dearly love to be present if that happened.

As soon as Lady Nym received word that the Winterfell party was planning to leave, she jumped into action to plan the masquerade ball she had earlier envisioned. Finding the book with the picture of King Leonidas of Sparta, she sent a handmaiden to invite Lady Sansa to meet with her and Sarra in Arya’s solar. Arya still enjoyed playing the role of ‘lady of the castle’ and had a kitchen servant bustling about serving the ladies tea and sweets. Lady Nym showed Sansa the image and asked her if she was willing to encourage Gendry to don such a provocative costume. When Sansa hesitated, Sarra added, “Sansa, we can dress you as his wife, Queen Gorgo. She wore a lovely robe that will complement your voluptuous figure. Nym and I will do your hair and makeup and you will be the envy of every woman at the ball!”

Now Sansa smiled and nodded agreement. She loved to be the center of attention, especially at a ball and thought, _I may not be Daenerys or Arya, but I will be queen for a night!_

“Excellent!” Lady Nym enthusiastically announced, “But we must not lose a minute! Sansa, your family will board your ship for the North at the appearance of the full moon and we only have two weeks to plan the ball! Will you help?”

“Of course!” Sansa said happily, “I _love_ planning parties!”

“Good!” the Sand Snake responded, “First, order Gendry to stop shaving! King Leonidas had a dark beard and we know Gendry can attain sufficient growth in two weeks. Now why did both of you Starks get a dreamy look when I mentioned a bearded Gendry?”

It was Arya who answered, realizing that she felt a twinge in her center when she fantasized about Gendry, “Never you mind! Do I have to be involved? I _hate_ planning parties!”

“Nae,” Sarra told her, “You can just decide on your costume. We have to send out announcements so everyone at court has enough time to plan theirs.”

After consulting with Lord Jon, Queen Daenerys, and the castle stewards, Lady Nym, Sarra, and Sansa made haste to organize the ball. They reserved the Great Hall for the dance, planned a menu, engaged musicians, and informed the ladies of the Great Houses that were still present about the details. Ravens were sent to nearby castles to complete the invitation list. The ball was meant to be a farewell celebration for those who had come for the coronation and the wedding. Bearing in mind the discussion about the state of the royal treasury, Lady Nym made it clear that the Sand Snakes of Dorne were footing the costs of the affair.

Lady Nym herself planned to dress as Warrior Princess Xena, the defender of Amphipolis, and the costume complemented her strong thighs and ample bosom. Margaery Tyrell was to appear as Princess Diana of the Amazons, whose costume was similar to Lady Nym’s, as it also drew attention to her long legs and large breasts. Queen Daenerys decided to keep it simple and brought out her familiar riding outfit worn during her days as _khaleesi_ of her Dothraki _khal_. It consisted of a modest leather skirt and an attractive jewel-encrusted vest that barely covered her breasts. Her attire also enhanced her narrow waist, flat stomach, and voluptuous bosom. She knew that men found the costume impossible to ignore.

In jest, Lyanna Mormont dressed as Queen Daenerys in her typical courtly garb, complete with a platinum wig. Daenerys’ normal clothing, which she had adopted while living in Essos, was lovely and flattering to her shapely and full figure, and Lyanna, being of similar dimensions, was quite the beauty in the outfit. At one point, Daenerys approached her with a smile, kissed the younger girl and said, “You do me justice, sweetling,” and Lyanna was very pleased.

Maesters were kept busy in the castle library finding the images of costumes of ancient kings and queens, lords and ladies, as many of the older folks decided to dress as their ancestors. Aegon had had the same idea and donned the royal attire of the founder of his line, the legendary Aegon I, also known as Aegon the Conqueror and Aegon the Dragon, who married his two sisters and fathered sons with each, which started the 300 year long drama known as the Old Dynasty. The young king even had the opportunity to bear his famous ancestor’s Valerian steel sword, Blackfyre, as Targaryen loyalists had started returning family heirlooms when he first appeared in the Crownlands. The swords, Blackfyre and Dark Sister, which had been wielded by Aegon I’s sister, Visenya, had long been lost, and it was a major surprise when they reappeared.

Robb Stark found a false beard and wig of salt-and-pepper color and dressed as his lord father. Theon came as Simon Toyne, the leader of that fabled band of outlaws, the notorious Kingswood Brotherhood, smirking that since Lyanna had branded him a rogue, he might as well appear as one for the ball.

When it was time for Gendry to don his outfit, Sansa and Sarra presented the tiny jewelry bag that was his costume to him. The smith took it and looked distrustfully at the grinning maidens, asking in a puzzled voice, “You want me to wear this? Where is the rest of the outfit?”

Sarra answered, “There are also metal wrist guards and shin guards, a shortsword and a shield, and a beautiful red cape that reaches almost to the floor.”

Gendry was confused and waved the small piece of silk, “But _this_ is all that will clothe my body?!”

Sansa appeared crestfallen and pleaded, “Please, Gendry, it will be so much fun!”

The smith could not refuse his lady love and simply sighed, “If you say so,” accepting his doom.

Sansa was excited about the costume that Lady Nym had prepared for her. Queen Gorgo’s robe had a full skirt, but the upper part was cleft to the waist, revealing a great expanse of her breasts as did the bare sides of her torso. This bodice, such as it was, was held in place by two belts, one directly below the bosom, accentuating its shape, and the other around her narrow waist, setting it off from her wide hips. Her lady mother, upon viewing the costume fitting with the seamstress, ventured, “Sansa, that dress is, umm, quite revealing!”

Sansa responded brightly, “Aye, isn’t it lovely?! I’m sure that I will be much admired!”

Lady Catelyn knew it would be hopeless to argue with her smitten daughter.

Other maidens, under the influence of grownups, wore modest slave girl dresses, but many ladies choose varieties of a tavern maid’s dress, the basic model having a slit up the skirt almost to the waist to occasionally reveal a stocking-clad leg, and a tightly laced corset, which accentuated the wearer’s bosom contained within the extremely low neckline of the bodice. Some wags smirked that the women of court were all intent on advertising their wares for the pleased male population.

Most of the revelers were gathered in the hall, chatting and partaking of the wine and canapés when Lady Nym deemed it the right time for Gendry to make his appearance as King Leonidas of Sparta and Sansa as Queen Gorgo, complete with a small golden tiara on her head. Gendry entered with the beaming maiden on his arm and with a gasp, all conversation stopped abruptly. The youth possessed ten and seven namedays and no doubt the most athletic body in all of the Red Keep. His costume consisted of a helmet, which he promptly removed as it was very uncomfortable, the wrist guards, shin guards, sword, shield, and cape previously mentioned, and a short armored skirt covered his loins and the tiny silk briefs. Gendry’s face was covered with a two weeks growth of black beard, which made him appear older. But the guests were most impressed with his muscular and virile physique, enhanced by his broad shoulders that tapered over a washboard stomach to a narrow waist. He possessed powerful arms and thighs, which were completely on display, and the briefs held no secrets about his privates. The outfit left nothing to the imagination, and it was obvious that Gendry was as well-endowed as a stallion. Every lord was jealous of him and every lady wanted to own him.

In the silence, Lady Nym turned to Sarra and murmured, “We were not wrong. He is a vision to please our eyes.”

Sarra responded, “To the seven hells with my eyes, I want his cock inside me!”

The Sand Snake signaled and the musicians struck up their instruments for the dancing to commence. By the end of the evening Gendry had danced with more women than he could count and he was totally exhausted. The dancing did not bother him so much as the hungry and predatory glances of the ladies did. When he took Lady Nym in his arms he boldly complained that she had made a spectacle of him and that he was very uncomfortable.

The Dornish girl smirked and retorted, “Enjoy it, Gendry. Every man and boy in this hall wishes he were you and every woman wants you for her lover. You will not be young, handsome, and strong forever, so be grateful for what you have now. You are on the top of the world! Be happy!” She kissed his cheek when the dance was over and for once, did not imply that she wanted to eat him up.

Lady Nym had asked the Queen of Thorns to head a small committee whose role was to choose the best male and female costumes and award the winners with engraved silver goblets. It did not take much discussion to award ‘best male costume’ to Gendry, and deciding to be politically correct, they awarded ‘best female costume’ to Queen Daenerys. As usual, Gendry was embarrassed by all the attention and had been uncomfortable with his near nudity all evening, but Daenerys basked in the adulation and bowed and smiled at the guests, hissing at Gendry to join her.

During the dance, Lady Catelyn observed how lustfully Sansa gazed at Gendry and made it a point to ‘help’ her escort him to his chamber at the end of the evening, thinking conditions were perfect for Sansa to lose her maidenhead. In fact, Lady Stark herself ravished her husband later that night, leaving him exhausted, and he wasn’t the only abused male in the castle. As Sansa kissed Gendry’s cheek good night, she whispered, “Come to my chamber at the Hour of the Wolf. This wonderful evening cannot end with only this kiss.” Gendry nodded his agreement and looked forward to their secret tryst.

Upon hearing of Aegon’s costume, Sarra dressed as the first Aegon’s sister-wife, Visenya Targaryen, complete with her famous sword, Dark Sister, and stayed close to him all evening. At times she would hold his hand and entwine their fingers. Aegon observed the expression on her face when she did so, and it was far from innocent.

Arya knew that her choice would prove disquieting to some of the older nobles present, but dressed in a modest Northern gown with her glossy chestnut hair flowing unbound down her back, her direwolf brooch on her chest and a single blue rose placed above her ear. Her father gasped and exclaimed, “For true! You _are_ my sister Lyanna! The resemblance is uncanny!” His eyes became damp and he hugged her, overwhelmed with feelings of regret and love as he kissed the top of her head. The wolf girl noted the expressions of shock and remembrance on the faces of other members of the court, and thought, _I have heard it often said that I am Lyanna Stark reborn, so I might as well play the part._

Following the historical theme of the masquerade, Ned Dayne dressed as his famous uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, the fable warrior known as the Sword of Morning, and even wore the famous greatsword of House Dayne, Dawn, a beautiful white metal weapon, said to be forged from a falling star, and as sharp as Valerian steel. Ser Arthur was a member of the Prince Rhaegar’s Kingsguard, who assigned the Dornish knight the task of guarding Lady Lyanna when the prince left to battle Robert Baratheon. Sadly, Ser Arthur gave up his life in doing so.

As his uncle had done with Lyanna Stark, young Lord Ned found himself hovering at Arya’s shoulder for most of the evening.

When they danced, he murmured into her ear, “Lovey girl,” and lightly kissed her cheek. Arya looked closely at him and realized that his expression was nothing short of adoration. Looking around first to see that no one was paying attention, she kissed him quickly on the lips, and whispered, “You are so sweet, Ned.” The wolf girl always felt on equal footing with Aegon, but Ned made her feel girlish and vulnerable. She couldn’t understand her fondness for the lad, but it had always been so.

Late in the evening Sarra saw that Lord Jon and Lady Nym had disappeared, as has Lord and Lady Stark, Sansa and Gendry, as well as Lyanna Mormont and Theon. Still holding Aegon’s hand, she approached Arya and Ned and motioned for them to follow her to the royal bedchamber. Once the four youths were inside, she closed the door and turned to her companions, saying, “I think tonight is the ideal time for all of us to fulfill our fantasies.” She gazed boldly at Aegon after she said these words, and Arya and Ned found themselves staring shyly at each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm, both Sansa _and_ Sarra have something planned. I wonder what it could be?
> 
> Interestingly enough, as I did research on Queen Gorgo, I learned she was played by Lena Headey (Cersei Lannister!) in the “300” movie.
> 
> You can find pictures of ‘King Leonidas’ and ‘Queen Gorgo’ on ‘Google Images’.


	67. The Ball Inspires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The masquerade ball and Gendry’s costume seems to have removed the inhibitions, increased the libidos, and fueled the imaginations of many of the participants, causing them to become quite daring, impulsive, and experimental. Let’s see what happened…..
> 
> This is a _very_ romantic chapter, if you know what romance often implies in this fic. I hope you enjoy it.

“The Honored Guest” Chapter 67 The Ball Inspires 

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Previously: 

As Sansa kissed Gendry’s cheek good night, she whispered, “Come to my chamber at the Hour of the Wolf. This wonderful evening cannot end with only this kiss.” Gendry nodded his agreement and looked forward to their secret tryst.

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At the hour of the wolf, there was a muffled knock on Sansa’s door and she opened it to see a smiling Gendry standing there, wrapped in King Leonidas’ cloak. She ushered him inside and when he heard the lock click, discarded the cloak to reveal that he was clad only in his _comfortable_ smallclothes, not the painfully tight briefs that Lady Nym had dressed him in. He had been convinced that the torturous loincloth was going to cause permanent damage to his privates, and he was grateful that he had been wrong.

Sansa had entertained similar thoughts and was garbed in a shear silk nightgown that she had secretly liberated from her lady mother’s wardrobe. The negligée hid nothing and Gendry’s eyes were rewarded with the spectacle of the maiden’s treasures. Sansa’s wide hips, narrow waist, and large breasts were obvious, and the sheer material teased the presence of her dark teats and mound. Gendry felt his manhood stiffen at the sight. They quickly moved together, embraced, and initiated a long, deep, and sensuous kiss. Gendry’s eager hands found her breasts and began to knead and fondle them, and Sansa boldly stroked his cock as they groaned into each other’s mouth.

Eventually they broke apart to breathe and they found themselves gasping for air, as if they had been submerged in water. Sansa gave the smith a demure and shy expression and ventured, “Gendry, I would have you give me another ‘Lord’s Kiss’, as I have thought about it constantly since the royal wedding.”

“As have I, milady, your wish is my command,” he whispered into her ear and kissed her neck as he easily lifted and swiftly carried her to the bed. Sansa lay back and Gendry, wasting no time, pushed the negligée above her waist as she eagerly raised her arse to help shift the silk out of the way and reveal her center. He stared at her mound and slit for a moment, murmured, “You are beautiful!” and moved in to kiss her nether lips, finding her sex tantalizingly hot, wet, and inviting.

Sansa pressed herself against his face and dug her fingers into his hair, moaning, “Oh, gods, Gendry! This is _wonderful!_ Do not stop! Please kiss me forever!” She writhed and bucked as his tongue explored her passage and he fondled her mound and nub. The experience was so novel for the young girl that she soon came to a screaming orgasm, squeezing the lad’s head and soaking his face with her juices. Releasing his head and opening her eyes, she gazed at Gendry lovingly and purred, “I should never have sneered at the Sand Snakes. Now that I have shared the same pleasure that they frequently enjoy, I want it constantly!”

To the enchanted youth, she possessed the face of a goddess, and Gendry nuzzled her breasts, throat, and now her lips, muttering, “Anytime you wish, milady. I will gift you with the ‘Lord’s Kiss’ as often as I can. I love you and want you to always be satisfied.”

Sansa still had a faraway gaze and continued her thought, “Arya told me that she also craves the ‘Lord’s Kiss’ and has been gifted with it from five boys and men.” Then her eyes widened and she looked sharply at the smith. “Gendry! You haven’t done this with my sister, have you?!” she accused, her Tully blue eyes flashing.

“Nae, milady! I have not! I have only kissed Arya’s lips! Please do not dwell on that notion!” Gendry was blushing as her accusation had him immediately imaging what it would be like to put his head between the wolf girl’s tempting thighs and his cock involuntarily vibrated at the thought. He did not need Sansa causing him to fantasize about her seductive sister when he was trying to focus on _her_ pleasure. Thoughts of pleasuring Arya came easily enough to him and that concept made him uncomfortable, especially with her nubile sister in his arms.

Now Sasha appeared as excited as a child with a new toy and she exclaimed, “I want to give you the ‘Lady’s Kiss’, Arya showed me how!” She dropped to her knees and started to untie the laces of his smallclothes. Then she stopped for a moment and stared up at him suspiciously, “Gendry, did Arya give you a ‘Lady’s Kiss’?”

Again Gendry remonstrated, “Nae! Arya has only touched her lips to mine!” Of course, he now visualized the sight of his cock in the she wolf’s mouth as she stared up at him with her wide, grey eyes. _This_ thought was also disquieting and one he did not need to entertain at the moment. “Milady, I have only been intimate with _you!"_ he repeated with anguish in his voice.

“Well, I have no choice but to believe you,” Sansa replied seemingly mollified, “so let us continue.” His smallclothes were loose now and she pushed them down his legs, revealing his massive and throbbing purple cock before her eyes, which widened in shock. “Gendry! You are enormous! What am I to do with _that?!"_ She touched him tentatively at first and then became bolder, stroking his member more firmly. She drew a deep breath and attempted to place her mouth over it. Stretching her jaws as wide as possible, she could only fit part of it inside. Sansa pulled back and looked up at him plaintively. “It won’t fit!” she complained.

The initial sensation of her mouth surrounding his cock was so delightful that he simply smiled and replied, “That’s all right, sweetling, just do what you can,” encouraging her to continue her efforts. Tentatively the girl sucked in as much of his length as she could and then focusing on her sister’s advice, grasped and stroked the root of his member and massaged his bollocks.

Gendry groaned and pulsated slowly against her face, gently placing his hands on her head and burying his hands in her hair, stroking her soft auburn locks. “Faster,” he whispered, and Sansa complied. Soon he emitted an extended moan and spilled his seed, falling weakly back on the bed.

Sansa let his softening member slide out from between her lips, and with his seed dripping down her chin, lay next to him and cautiously asked, “Did you like that?”

The young smith grinned with delight, embraced his love, and replied, “That was excellent, milady! You have made me very happy! Apparently we both have the means to pleasure each other without fear of my taking your maidenhead!”

Now Sansa looked troubled, and as she fondled the thick black hair of his chest and beard, she shyly ventured, “Gendry, about that. When we wed and it is the moment of consummation, I am afraid that you are too large and will split me in twain!”

He saw her worried face and tried to soothe her fears. “That is an exaggeration, dear one. Here, let me show you.” He stood up and leaned over her, gazing at her glistening center, immediately aroused by the tempting sight. He rubbed his cock against to her damp slit to moisten it, and with Sansa watching closely, he slowly and gently pushed the head into the entrance of her passage.

Both youths sucked in their breath and moaned at the agreeable feeling of their initial congress and as Gendry imperceptibly moved his cock in and out, he panted, “See, we _do_ fit together, and when we wed, you will not be damaged.”

Sansa’s eyes were crossed and she bit her lip as she squirmed underneath him, sighing, “Gendry, either ruin me now or remove yourself immediately, for I cannot stand any more of this feeling! It is wonderful!”

Gendry also had the urge to take her instantly and not think of the consequences, but his better judgment had him immediately but reluctantly pull his member out of her sweet sex. They lay side by side, embracing for a long time, until, noticing that the sky was no longer pitch dark outside her window, Gendry rose up, lamenting as he pulled on his smallclothes, “It is very late. I should go.”

Sansa also got up, and before Gendry had wrapped the cloak completely around himself, she wantonly pressed her soft and lush torso against him one more time and kissed him deeply, murmuring, “I am so glad you came to me tonight, my love.”

“I will always be at your beck and call, Sansa dear,” Gendry replied and kissed her forehead while stroking her hair before leaving with a backwards, yearning glance.

As Sansa locked the door, she looked down at her naked and ravished body, and thought, _my sister was right, we could have so much fun without actually making love. Now I will just have to see how often Gendry and I can find ‘alone time’ without any of my nosy family knowing! Well, Arya admitted to accosting him in the forge, so mayhaps I can make that a habit!_

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Theon and Lyanna left the dance and went immediately to the Sand Snakes’ suite. Lyanna had smirked that both Lady Nym and Sarra were ‘occupied’ elsewhere and they probably wouldn’t be disturbed. However, Theon was not going to take any chances and he turned the lock, lowered the wooden crossbar, and wedged a chair against the door, saying, “There! I guarantee we will have no interruptions!”

Lyanna stood in front of him wearing Queen Daenerys’ provocative outfit and coyly asked, “Would you like to undress me?”

The eager lad rushed over to her and began to remove her clothing, kissing her exposed ivory skin as her arms, breasts, belly, and finally legs were slowly revealed. As he dropped to his knees and his mouth started to insistently kiss the insides of her thighs, she put her hands on his shoulders and said, “Wait, you are still fully dressed.” Theon stood up and now it was her turn to undress him. Lyanna had him nude as quickly as possible and immediately began to fondle his stiffening cock. “Lie down on the bed,” she ordered urgently, “I want to give you the ‘Lady’s Kiss’.”

Theon quickly complied, and she leaned over him, devoting her mouth and hands to his pleasure as he began to moan. Lyanna stretched herself out and then shifted to lay her body atop his, pressing her soft breasts with their stiff teats against his belly and her wet slit against his face. The lad was surprised at first, but her sweet sex was so inviting that he covered it with his mouth and slipped his tongue inside of her, stroking the plump globes of her arse with his hands. The she-bear managed to moan with a full mouth and, throbbing intensely, the lovers feverishly brought each other to satisfying orgasms. Afterwards, Lyanna spun around to kiss his face and the couple curiously tasted their own salty and unique fluids on their partner’s lips.

“Lyanna! That was wonderful!” Theon exclaimed, as he kissed her lovely breasts and squeezed the soft arse that he was now hopelessly smitten with.

The she-bear giggled sweetly and told him, “Arya calls it the ‘Couples Kiss’, and she told me that she and Ned Dayne were doing it constantly as they traveled on the road to King’s Landing. Arya said that it was the only thing that prevented them from fucking, and without it, she would not have arrived intact and it would have caused a fuss. Now that she is wed, she wears out poor Aegon’s mouth all the time.”

Theon was shaking his head and laughing, “That little minx! I knew she was trouble years ago and yet I am still surprised by her behavior!” He was toying with Lyanna’s hair as he stroked her back and paused before he murmured, “She is a tempting little wench now, though. I would love to do the ‘Couple’s Kiss’ with her. Would you mind if I asked her, Lyanna?”

The Northern lass swiftly leaned back and solidly punched his arm, crying out, “Don’t you dare! I doubt that she would even entertain such an idea, but I will geld you if you even mention it again!”

“Ouch!” Theon winced and rubbed his throbbing arm, thinking, _the girl is strong and dangerous!_ “Beg pardon! I was only japing! What happened to your sense of humor?”

Lyanna frowned and appeared perplexed. “I should have known that you were not serious, but I wager that I became so jealous at your words that I reacted without thinking. I am sorry that I hurt you,” she apologized and gently kissed his cheek.

Still rubbing his aching appendage, Theon replied, “There is no need for you to be jealous anymore, sweetling. I am besotted with your clever mind, wicked smile, and curvaceous figure.” He put his hands on her ample hips and pressed his face into her inviting cleavage. “How can I entertain thoughts about any other maiden when I have _this_ to thrill me?”

The she-bear was still doubtful. “You have been a flirt for so long that I didn’t know if I could trust you.”

Theon tried to appear serious, “I may still be fond of an easy jape and a suggestive remark, but I swear that I am true to you. Please recall that I even rejected Sarra Martell’s advances, and every lad in the Red keep would sell his soul to fuck that seductive Sand Snake.”

Lyanna was mollified and said, “All right, I’ll try not to be suspicious.” But then she smiled and purred, “You can prove your love for me by sharing another ‘Couple’s Kiss’.”

It was Theon’s turn to smile, “Gladly my dear! Look! My sword is ready to spar!” He pointed to his cock, which was standing at attention and waiting for engagement.

The she-bear laughed and they returned to their lovemaking.

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As usual, throughout the evening amorous couples wandered out into the Godswood from the dance to share some intimacy and private time. Unfortunately, some highborn couples were not allowed much privacy and were attended discretely by chaperones to prevent any embarrassing situations. Lady Margaery and Prince Quentyn, who had become constant companions following the wedding feast, were silently accompanied by her septa.

Robb Stark and Shireen Baratheon held hands and swung their arms as they chatted comfortably and smiled serenely at each other. Lord Stannis and Lady Selyse Baratheon followed the young wolf and their precious daughter at a proper distance so as not to eavesdrop. Lady Selyse’s normally dour face bore a rare smile, and even her somber husband seemed light-hearted. Many assumed that Lady Selyse’s constant foul mood was caused by her residence at that formidable island, Dragonstone, which had originally been the ancestral home of the Targaryens, but had been awarded to Lord Stannis following Robert’s Rebellion. Lady Baratheon was a Florent of the Reach and had grown up in that lush, green land. Dragonstone was a harsh, stony island and the castle was embellished with dragon sculptures, which never failed to frighten and unnerve her. Living in that forbidding location with her humorless lord husband ruined any positive feelings she might have had. However, the Baratheons doted on their only child and had been distressed when a childhood illness had almost killed her and left her with the scars of greyscale.

Their pleasure was unbounded when the handsome and amiable son of Lord Eddard Stark, the Warden of the North, declared his affection for Shireen, and it seemed likely that a betrothal was certain to follow. Lord and Lady Stark had given their approval for the match and both families were delighted with the idea of a union between them, as King Robert had originally intended. Lady Selyse was also secretly hoping that the new Targaryen rulers would reclaim their ancestral home and she would have the opportunity to return to more comfortable living quarters on the mainland.

Two young couples, Adrian Byrch and Megga Tyrell, and Artos Flint and Alla Tyrell, had also disappeared into the Godswood, and when Lady Olenna became aware that her relatives were missing she immediately sent her servants to fetch them. Bold Megga was almost completely disrobed in her tryst with Squire Adrian when discovered, and Artos and Alla were in a deep embrace with their clothing very disheveled.

Instead of roundly scolding her great-granddaughters, the Queen of Thorns interpreted the friendships the girls had formed as an opportunity to enlarge her sphere of influence. She was mightily pleased with the likelihood of a strong alliance between Dorne and the Reach because Margaery was likely to wed Quentyn, and now she encouraged the younger girls to correspond with their beaus after they left King’s Landing. She told them that if they wished, she would write to the lads’ parents to discuss possible betrothals and visits between them.

Lady Olenna figured that by inviting Adrian Byrch of the Crownlands and Artos Flint of the North into the family, the Tyrells would have alliances throughout Westeros. The ambitious woman was very pleased with her plans and thought herself fortunate to have so many grandchildren and great-grandchildren to employ as pawns. However, she did warn Megga that if the impetuous girl surrendered her maidenhead before marriage, she would disown her and send her away to a brothel in Oldtown. The little imp actually appeared as if that might be an appealing fate. Lady Olenna shook her head and dismissed her, muttering, “Mayhaps I will just feed you to the wolves!”

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Previously:

Arya dressed in a modest Northern gown with her glossy chestnut hair flowing unbound down her back, her direwolf brooch on her chest and a single blue rose placed above her ear. Her father gasped and exclaimed, “For true! You _are_ my sister Lyanna! The resemblance is uncanny!”

Ned Dayne dressed as his famous uncle, Ser Arthur Dayne, who Prince Rhaegar assigned the task of guarding Lady Lyanna when the prince left to battle Robert Baratheon. As his uncle had done with Lyanna Stark, young Lord Ned found himself hovering at Arya’s shoulder for most of the evening.

Aegon donned the royal attire of the founder of his line, the legendary Aegon I, who married his two sisters and fathered sons with each.

Sarra dressed as the first Aegon’s sister-wife, Visenya Targaryen, and stayed close to him all evening. At times she would hold his hand and entwine their fingers. Aegon observed the expression on her face when she did so, and it was far from innocent.

Once the four youths were inside the royal bedchamber, Sarra closed the door and turned to her companions, saying, “I think tonight is the ideal time for all of us to fulfill our fantasies.” She gazed boldly at Aegon after she said these words, and Arya and Ned found themselves staring shyly at each other.

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“Aegon, cuz, since our time in Harrenhal I have made it no secret that I would consider bedding you to be much fun, and I notice recently that your eyes often stray towards my bosom. I wager that you have been entertaining similar thoughts.”

Aegon could not refute her, as, since his brief tryst with the Lady Margaery’s magnificent breasts, he _had_ been more aware of the delights of a large bosom. He tried to be a respectable good-brother and not dwell on Sansa’s lovely breasts, and to his relief the demure maiden rarely wore a revealing bodice. Of course, he relished his wife’s compact and shapely frame immensely, and was repulsed by the devious and ambitious Tyrell beauty, but he was now tempted by the allure of the Dornish girl’s torso and was often aware of how her full breasts shifted heavily under her silks when she moved.

Turning to Arya and Ned, who were still shyly failing to avoid eye contact, Sarra continued, “And we are _all_ aware that these two are lusting for each other. Whenever they are in the same room, their eyes always seek each other. Why not end the suspense tonight since we are pretending to be other people?”

Now Arya and Ned raised their eyes and did make eye contact. Aegon steeled his nerve and asked with a serious tone of voice, “Arya, do you want this?” The she-wolf’s eyes immediately lowered again, but he gently raised her chin, willing her to face him.

In the softest voice he had ever heard her use; she murmured shyly, “Aye, I want this.”

Aegon sighed and turned to Ned, who was unsuccessfully trying to mask the hopeful expression on his face, saying, “Treat her right, Ned, she is precious to me.”

Young Lord Dayne replied confidently, “Aye, your grace, she is precious to me, also.”

Arya had an annoyed countenance and smacked both of them on the chest, “Stop it! You _both_ make me feel all girly!”

Aegon and Ned looked at each other, shook their heads, and laughed at her remark as they were both familiar with her attitude about being a mistaken for a simpering female. Aegon turned Arya around and gently pushed her towards Ned. Then, thinking, _I might as well enjoy myself!_ Aegon faced Sarra, who was wearing a predatory smirk, and smiled.

Sarra moved to embrace Aegon and before kissing him to initiate their lovemaking, muttered into his ear, “Mayhaps they will fuck their mutual infatuation out of both their systems tonight, and we will all have some peace.”

He stared at the wise and clearheaded lass and answered, “I hope you are right.” Determined to ignore the other pair, Aegon turned his attention to Sarra and pressed his lips against hers, snaking his tongue into her mouth, throwing all his misgivings to the wind.

As Arya and Ned stared at each other, Sarra led Aegon to the opposite side of the king-size, four-poster bed and sat him down on the edge. “Shall I strip for you?” she purred, fingering the laces close to her throat. Aegon’s mouth went dry and he nodded his assent. The skillful Sand Snake slowly and gracefully removed her silks, teasing him with glimpses of her secrets, and as she disrobed, Aegon’s felt his lust grow as did his stiffening cock. He realized that Sarra was as well-practiced as any courtesan in the fabled pleasure houses of Braavos, and she elegantly entertained him, softly singing some tune unknown to him. He smiled as he recalled Arya’s cute attempts at the strip tease. The younger girl wanted to copy her mentors, but invariable fell over awkwardly when she tried to remove her smallclothes in a stylish fashion. Aegon made a mental note to encourage his young wife to continue her erotic training with Sarra and Lady Nym.

Sarra stood before Aegon unclothed and her voluptuous figure was a sight to give any man fretful dreams and no peace until he took himself in his own hands and let his imagination wander. Her mound, covered in soft brown hair, was tempting, but Aegon was mesmerized by her breasts, which were as breathtaking as Margaery’s, and he felt another twinge of lust in his loins as he stared at them.

Unlike Margaery and Sansa, whose main forms of exercise were embroidery, serene horseback riding, and wagging their gossiping tongues, Sarra was a warrior woman and had spent many hours in the training yard. Her arms and thighs were muscular, and her overall physique was both feminine and powerful. He had to admit that he felt an intense desire to bed his distant cousin.

Before he could begin to ravish her, Sarra abruptly said, “You are wearing too much clothing,” invited him to stand up and started to undress him. She did it more leisurely and not with the ferociousness of the ‘bedding’ ceremony, and Aegon was grateful. As Sarra removed his clothing she touched him expertly and intimately, arousing him to an emotional state in which his mind was clouded and his only thoughts were about the instant gratification of his cock.

At last Sarra slid his smallclothes down his legs, stroking the inside of his thighs and his bollocks as his member rose to attention, swollen and throbbing. His need for her was almost painful. Leering at his privates, the Dornish girl took hold of his cock and inspected it carefully, finally announcing in a teasing voice, “Well, your scepter is certainly kingly, as I would expect it to be - long, thick, dark red, and impressive!”

Wasting not another minute, Sarra lay back on the bed, pulling him over her. “Enough foreplay, your grace, I have been wet and ready for you all evening! Come inside me now!”

That was all Aegon needed to hear, and his lust was so great that he impaled her deeply, unconcerned with the possibility of hurting the lass. To his surprise, his large cock immediately filled her channel completely and Sarra moaned, “Oooooh, you are a perfect fit!” as she wrapped her strong legs around his waist and held him firmly in place while squeezing his member with the muscles of her sex. Then she demanded, “Aegon, fuck me hard!” and began to vibrate rapidly against his groin.

Aegon was astonished. He normally had to be careful and enter Arya slowly as she was built smaller than Sarra and it took a few minutes to drive himself deeply into her without causing her pain. However, the Sand Snake had sucked him in straightaway and he complied to her order, pounding her ferociously and heedlessly like a wild animal as she writhed and groaned, “Oooh, that feels wonderful! Fuck me good, my king!”

The lad was so overstimulated that he desperately tried to prevent himself from coming too soon by thinking of Septa Mordane’s sour face, but it was no use, and far too soon he helplessly shouted, “Seeeveen Helllllllls!” and violently spilled his scalding seed inside Sarra’s womb. The Dornish girl continued to thrust herself against him and very soon she let out a lengthy moan and he felt her hot juices seep out of her passage and down his legs.

Sarra’s panting was intense and she pushed him off of her body. His cock slid out as he moved to cuddle her, and they lay side by side, recovering from their passion. Their brains cleared and locking eyes, they blurted out at the same time, “That was incredible (wonderful)!” They were quiet for a few minutes and Sarra finally spoke up, “Wasn’t I right? I said we could have a good time together and we did, didn’t we?”

Aegon was nuzzling her breasts now, and he responded with a muffled voice, “I can’t argue with you, Sarra, I am satiated and could fall asleep in a second.”

The Sand Snake fixed him with her mischievous grin and purred, “I’ll give you fifteen minutes, and then I want more!” She emphasized her intentions by stroking his limp cock.

Aegon inwardly groaned, recalling Arya after their first dragon flight and Ser Rolly’s contention that Sand Snakes were difficult to fully satisfy. _I’m in for now!_ he thought.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the bed, Arya was helping Ned remove his costume armor. They were both trembling with anticipation, excited that they have been given permission by their mates to pursue their mutual fantasy, and their hands could hardly work properly due to their eagerness. As they shed their clothing, they whispered to each other how much they wanted this. Ned quietly mouthed into her ear, “I have wanted to make love to you ever since I saw that first tear roll down your beautiful face,” and Arya softly replied, “I have desired to feel you moving inside me ever since our first sweet kiss by the campfire.”

They were soon naked, and as their bodies held no mysteries from each other, Ned immediately leaned in to fondle her breasts and bite her pert, raspberry teats, placing his hand over her mound and discovering that she was wet and ready for him. Arya grasped his willing cock, and moaning, “Ned, I can’t wait any longer! Take me now!” She fell back on the bed, pulling him down and thrusting his member inside her.

Startled, the pair reacted simultaneously; _she (he) is a perfect fit!_ and they throbbed against each other slowly and gently as Arya began to moan, “Oh, oh,” as she writhed underneath him, bringing her legs up to encircle his waist and lightly rest her heels on his pulsating arse. They embraced and kissed each other’s lips, eyes, noses, passionately as they coupled, enjoying the exquisite sensation of how the size and shape of his cock and her channel matched so well and how the most minuscule movement rewarded them with extreme pleasure. They continued to vibrate slowly as one being, guided by the rhythm of Arya softly moaning, “Oh, oh,” for the longest time. They were aware, of course, that the couple next to them were violently shaking the bed and making a racket with shouts and the slapping of flesh, but they shut the distraction out of their minds and it was soon over anyway.

Release came sweetly, and as Arya clutched his bottom more tightly with her ankles and his cock with her passage, her moan became extended, and he felt the hot gush of her orgasm, which led him to sigh and spill his seed soon afterwards. Their eyes opened and they stared at each other. Ned blurted out passionately, “Arya, I love you,” and then looked troubled. The young Sand Snake squeezed him affectionately and replied, “Ned, you know that I love Aegon and he is my soul mate, but there is room in my heart for you, so do not fret. It would be awkward if we made love after tonight, but know that our friendship will always be special to me.”

Ned sighed and returned her embrace, “I understand. You will always be special to me, also, and I value our friendship, even as I build a life with Sarra.”

They lay quietly for a while and then she grinned as she shifted her body, playfully inquiring, “You are not done, are you?”

He felt the soft hairs of her mound brush his cock and he instantly became tumescent, stating, “Nae! I am not done yet!” and slid inside her welcoming slit, savoring the exquisite sensation of coupling with his tempting she wolf. Arya began her sweet moaning again as they ravished each other one more time.

Aegon became conscious and realized that he had fallen asleep in Sarra’s arms. As he woke up he heard Sarra snickering. He gave her a puzzled look and she said, “Listen.” He sensed that the couple who shared their bed were scarcely moving as they fucked, and he heard Arya monotonously intoning, “Oh, oh,” continuously. Sarra whispered, “Do you think that they are having as much fun as we are?”

He remembered the hopelessly adoring glances Ned and Arya had shared when Sarra gave them leave to make their dreams a reality, and he sighed, “I am sure they are enjoying the experience as we are, but in a different way.”

Aegon had to admit that Arya’s moans were stimulating his cock, and he had half a mind to push Ned aside and take the sweet girl at that moment, but Sarra grabbed his arm and said, “Come on, I have another fantasy for you to fulfill!” He stared at her nubile body as she rose from the bed, and she surprised him by bending over a chair and shaking her lovely arse in his face. Aegon’s member stiffened even more as he realized that he was looking directly at her glistening slit. Sarra was facing away from him and he heard her say, “Your grace, take me now!” He grasped her hips firmly and entered her as they both groaned. Once more, their coupling was accompanied by violent thrusts, loud, inhuman grunts, and the sound of wet, slapping flesh. This joining felt new and completely different to Aegon and when they both reached their orgasms, he leaned over her and kissed the back of her neck before releasing her. Sarra stood upright and japed, “I should feel fortunate to have the seed of a king drip down my thigh.” They fell into bed and Sarra gave the lad a wicked look, “Have you done that with Arya yet?”

“Nae,” he admitted.

“Are you going to now?”

“Mayhaps.”

She laughed and they snuggled contentedly. Sarra laughed again and pointed, and Aegon saw that Arya and Ned were engaged in the ‘Couple’s Kiss’ next to them.

Sarra smirked, “Those two must really like the taste of each other. Arya once told me that she could spend the rest of her life with Ned’s mouth over her cunny and his tongue inside her!”

Aegon glared at the roguish and oblivious girl, “Thanks! I really needed to hear that!”

The Sand Snake added with a smile, “Well, I can also tell you that the last time he gifted her with the ‘Lord’s Kiss’, she rewarded him by calling out _your_ name!”

Now Aegon laughed, “That makes it a bit better. But I _do_ hope that tonight quenches her desire for him.”

“I don’t know about _her_ desire,” Sarra growled, “but I want to ride _you_ like a horse! Prepare to gallop!” The intrepid girl pushed him onto his back, climbed over him, and impaled herself on his cock and began to pound away. She was savoring her steed when she happened to look to her left and saw that Arya was now riding Ned, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, and her hands on his chest. Whereas Sarra was at a full gallop, the wolf girl was riding at a canter as Ned fondled her breasts and pinched her teats. Ned’s eyes were also closed and the pair quietly sang a duet, “Oh, oh, oh!” in perfect harmony. Sarra reached over and squeezed Arya’s arm. When the wolf girl looked at her, she whispered, “Sister!” and Arya smiled.

Aegon squirmed at first, but soon got into the rhythm, and it was as she said; he was mounted on a galloping horse, yet riding had _never_ felt so good. He struggled to raise his body and kiss her bouncing breasts as she throbbed over him as he recalled witnessing Lady Nym molesting Ser Rolly so long ago. Now he understood why they had been so exhausted. Sarra came loudly and violently, and after Aegon’s thrust into her one last exquisite time, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he passed out. The audacious Dornish girl watched the handsome youth as he snored quietly and japed to herself, _I seem to have the power to incapacitate men with only my sex! I am woman, hear me roar!_

Arya and Ned had fallen asleep in each other’s arms, looking as sweet and innocent as children. However, if a witness had lifted the covers, they would have seen the girl’s hand wrapped fondly around his cock, and two of the boy’s fingers penetrating her slit.

As the sky became brighter outside the window, Sarra woke up and immediately observed that Arya and Ned were quietly coupling again. They were slowly throbbing against each other and sharing muffled moans. When they reached a shared climax, they sighed and relaxed. “Don’t you ever get enough?!” Sarra scolded, slapping Arya’s arm lightly, “If you wear out Ned’s cock, I will be wroth with you!”

“Well, from the sounds _you_ made last night,” the she-wolf retorted, “I suspect that you were trying to kill my husband by fucking him to death!”

All four youths laughed and began to stretch and prepare to arise. Sarra, the first to get out of bed, realized that the bedchamber smelled strongly of sex, and lit a vanilla-scented candle that Arya had received as a wedding gift. Wrinkling her nose, she lit a second candle a few minutes later.

The privy of the royal chambers was in a small adjoining room that could be closed off from the bedroom and contained two tubs so the couple could bathe side by side and hold hands. Arya ordered her handmaidens to fill both bathtubs, and requested a pot of hot water so she and Sarra could prepare their morning moon tea. The warrior women bathed with their true partners, kissing and murmuring of love, and afterwards both young men were delighted to brush their maidens’ luxurious hair and braid it.

As they dressed to break their fast in the dining hall, Sarra smirked, “Aren’t you two the most devoted consorts? Any girl would be pleased with both of you, and I’m not just referring to your cocks!”

Aegon rolled his eyes, replying, “Sarra, you have the soul of a jester. I never know what you are going to say, but I expect to be shocked and entertained.”

Sarra winked, “Aye, you can be sure that I will keep you guessing.”

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The mood in the dining hall was quiet that morning but not somber, although general conversation was minimal. The ball had rekindled romance in the hearts of many of the participants, and couples were totally absorbed with each other. Lord Jon and Lady Nym, Lord and Lady Stark, Lyanna and Theon, Sansa and Gendry, and Margaery and Quentyn were holding hands and whispering private thoughts. Shireen and Robb, typical of several new friendships that had been recently forged, were murmuring how they knew they must soon part, and promised to exchange ravens and plan visits.

Lady Stark did politely commend Lady Nym for organizing the ball, saying that it had been a wonderful entertainment. Lady Nym replied with thanks for the compliment and that it seemed to have brought everyone closer together. Catelyn squeezed her lord husband’s hand and muttered her agreement.

Daenerys was noticeably absent as she had spent the night with her lover, Daario Naharis, the sellsword captain of the Stormcrows. The sight of Gendry’s virility, size, and near-nakedness had caused the queen to recall her long-lost and beloved first husband, the Dothraki Khal Drogo, and had inflamed her desire. She had ordered Daario to take her every way that a man could possibly take a woman and she willingly submitted herself to anything he wanted, leaving her sore, satisfied, and exhausted. At first light she took his cock into her mouth to make him hard one more time and rode him wildly as though she were on her silver mare again, galloping across the Dothraki sea of grass. As the sun began to rise, Daario dressed without a word and left her abruptly, frustrated because he loved her and knew that they could never wed, only secretly pleasure each other in her bedchamber. For a man as proud as Daario, his was a difficult fate, yet he knew that he could never leave her side. The queen was too tired and sore to rise from her bed after he left. Instead, she sent a handmaiden to the kitchens with orders to deliver her breakfast to her chambers and sent her regrets to Lord Jon.

Arya, Aegon, Sarra, and Ned were almost the last to arrive for the meal, trying to appear as innocent as possible; all convinced that last night’s forbidden pleasure could be read from their young faces. Sarra found a moment to whisper privately with her mentor, and Lady Nym’s eyes widened as she gazed at all four youths and winked at them.

Gendry had arrived at breakfast clean-shaven and Lady Nym asked petulantly, “Where is your fine beard?!”

Gendry grunted, “It was too itchy, so I cut it off!” as a host of women could not hide their disappointment, especially the Stark girls.

Lady Nym japed, “I fear that you have lost your allure, young smith.”

But Sarra whispered to her, “Not a chance. I’d fuck him in a heartbeat!”

Sarra observed that the hall was too quiet for the amount of people present, and the silence finally got to her. The wicked Sand Snake looked around her table and uttered in a perfect imitation of Arya’s voice, “Oh, oh, oh!”

Arya and Ned immediately turned bright red and the wolf girl smacked her friend’s arm, hissing, “Stop that, Sarra! What are you trying to do?!”

Lady Nym chuckled and Sarra returned the whisper, her eyes flashing, “I’m making a jape at your expense, of course!”

Lord Jon saw how agitated the youngsters had immediately become and announced with a puzzled expression, “I do not understand what you just did, Sarra, but I suspect it must be some mischief.” Connington often observed that the Dornish girls, Nymeria and Sarra, were particularly beautiful when bent on tomfoolery.

“Aye, my lord,” Sarra smiled at him, “it is an _inside_ jape,” and giggled as Arya, Ned, and now Aegon all blushed, and Lady Nym sniggered. Lord Jon shook his head, “I expect that my life was destined to be boring if I had never met you three young ladies.”

Now Lady Nym spoke up with a grin, “Fear not, my lord, we will make sure that your life is _never_ boring!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The party’s over, the Starks return home after many tearful parting, and life will return to normal in the Red Keep. But just for a little while. Hint, hint.


	68. Departures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After the masquerade ball, many lords and their ladies prepared to return to their homes. The Stark company was to sail back to the North. With the coronation and the wedding, some participants had been in King’s Landing for three turns of the moon.

The Honored Guest .. Chapter 68 .. Departures

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After their shared night of bliss following the ball, Arya and Sarra were sharing their evening moon tea. Sarra, japing as usual, queried, “So you had your way and pilfered my man. I hope you are satisfied and it was worth the effort.”

Arya failed to see the humor in her remark. “But you had _my_ man also, and by the sounds you made last night, I believe that you were enjoying coupling with him immensely,” the younger girl protested.

Sarra smirked, “Ah, but that is different. Aegon is king, and he has the right to choose any maiden he desires as a paramour or simply a one night stand. If he had the sudden craving to ravish Margaery Tyrell, all he has to do is snap his fingers and her septa would be compelled to deliver her to his chambers immediately.”

The distraught bride bit her lip and with a doubtful expression, murmured, “He would never do that.”

Sarra laughed, “I was only teasing, little wolf. You are right. I do not think that Aegon would take a paramour as he was even reluctant at first to bed me. However, when he finally decided to just ignore his misgivings, he pounded me as hard as I wanted and left me most satisfied.” She squeezed Arya’s arm affectionately. “Thank you, sweeting, I really enjoyed fucking Aegon so wildly and will always remember our fun. Now tell me about all that moaning with my sweet Ned.”

Arya blushed at the memory, “Oh, Sarra, it was as wonderful as I imagined it would be so long ago, and I think Ned felt the same way. He fit perfectly inside me and we barely needed to move to thrill each other. I felt like I could lie underneath him forever with his cock buried inside me. Ned has always been so obvious about his affection for me and he really expressed it when we made love. I love fucking Aegon and we have a lot of fun, but I adored how Ned could make me feel like a swooning maiden.” She lowered her eyes and admitted, “I don’t usually like feeling girly, but Ned brought the Sansa out of me.”

Sarra looked very thoughtful. “That is an interesting observation, she-wolf. Both our men have romantic souls and I can perceive Ned falling in love with me. I know what you mean, as I like how Ned’s attention makes me feel girly, too, but then again, I have always enjoyed being female more than you.” She paused for a moment and broached the big question, “So is your mutual infatuation satisfied?”

Arya sighed, “I think it is. Last night we took from each other as much as we could, and this morning at breakfast we did not feel the urge to trade secret glances.”

Sarra patted her hand, “Good! Now we can truly focus on our mates and solidify our relationships. I think last night brought all four of us closer and even the boys will be more comfortable with each other.”

Arya nodded, “That would be a good thing.” 

Sarra’s eyes flashed with mischief and she added suggestively, “You and Aegon will soon go on a long progress traveling around the kingdom. Mayhaps in about a year Ned and I could meet you in Dorne and we could borrow a small castle near a nude beach I know on the southern coast and we will see what happens. No?”

Arya blushed, “Sarra! I don’t want to think about that! Not now!”

Sarra grinned, “Aye, not now, but mayhaps in the future. Who knows?”

Arya just shook her head, “And you say that I am the horniest Sand Snake. Look inside yourself, Sarra. I think that _you_ are the most wanton!”

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One afternoon during the midday meal, Lord Jon turned to Arya and told her, “Queen Arya, now that you and Aegon are wed, it is your responsibility to direct the social life of the royal court. To that effect, you must assemble a group of highborn ‘ladies in waiting’ to attend you and help you plan events. Queen Daenerys is too busy with politics to play hostess, so the task falls to you.”

Arya presented a sour face to Lord Connington and complained, “But I _hate_ tea parties and planning dances and sewing circles and all that _girly_ stuff! Sarra is working with you, so the only other highborn maiden that I feel comfortable with is Lyanna Mormont, and she is _leaving!”_ She crossed her arms over her chest and pouted like the little girl she actually was.

Lord Jon, knowing the wolf girl well, smiled and replied, “I anticipated that would be your reaction. I suggest that you enlist your sister, Lady Sansa. I’m sure that she will be most enthusiastic to help you, as she seems to be filling that role at this moment.”

As expected, Sansa immediately took charge with a pleased expression at being asked, and suggested a number of lasses from the Crownlands, Stormlands, and the Reach that could be persuaded to remain in the Red Keep. Sansa also told her sister, “You must include Margaery Tyrell. After Lady Shireen and me, she is the highest ranking maiden at court.”

Queen Arya directed a petulant countenance at her sister and exclaimed, “I don’t want _that cow_ anywhere near me!”

But Sarra, an astute student of politics, interjected, “But, Arya, Maester Corleone, an expert on strategy and tactics, wrote ‘Keep your friends close but your enemies closer’. It would be wise to invite Lady Tyrell so she does not scheme behind your back.”

Lady Nym was observing the girls’ discussion, being the ‘adult’ in the room, and later reported Sarra’s words to Lord Jon. The Hand of the King laughed and commented, “Sarra is very clever! She is certainly a good student of politics! I would be comfortable with seeing her as Hand of the Queen!”

Arya valued her sister’s expert advice and was loath to see her leave for the North. The young queen grumbled to Sarra and Lady Nym, “If Sansa is not here, I might be tempted to stick Margaery with Needle!” Arya begged her sister to stay and help her, and Sansa was tempted to do so, as she loved the role of ‘queen bee’, but Gendry was going North also, and she would not be parted from him. Lady Stark settled the matter by stating that leaving one daughter in the capital was difficult enough, and she was not prepared to lose both of them to court, stating, “Arya has chosen her path already. I would prefer to enjoy the company of my other daughter until she is wed also.”

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The Starks were finally leaving and there was much consternation in the castle. Many lords had brought their entire families to King’s Landing to celebrate the military victory, the coronation, and the royal wedding. In effect, the Red Keep had been overrun with young people and it had become a veritable children’s playground. The war-weary older folks were indulgent, content to humor the carefree youths and forget the recent unpleasantness. Even the king, the two queens, and the assistant Hand were all attractive, intelligent, and vivacious teenagers, and the mood in the formerly somber Red Keep was optimistic and lighthearted.

The adolescents of Winterfell were enormously popular with the other highborn children and no one wanted to see them depart. As a group, the young Starks and their close companions were friendly and fun-loving, and easily took the lead in directing the youthful activities. Robb, Theon, and Gendry organized the games and physical activities, including sparring, wrestling, archery, and horseback riding. Sansa always took the lead in forming the sewing circle where as much gossip was discussed as embroidery advice was exchanged; and the ‘culture club’, where interest in literature, art and music brought boys and girls together for delightful entertainment. The other youths were also intrigued by the Stark children’s direwolves. Although they were almost the size of ponies, Grey Wind and Nymeria were friendly and playful, and favorite companions during picnics. Young Rickon Stark’s direwolf, Shaggydog, was not allowed to run free, though, as he was often bad-tempered and could bite. Rickon had only seen eight name days, and was not old enough to properly train his pet yet. 

Newcomers to court always thought that Sansa Stark was the young queen due to her natural beauty, elegant gowns and hairstyles, and her involvement in the social life of the castle and were astonished to learn that the pretty younger Stark girl with wild hair, dirty face, boy’s leathers, and a sword was the actual consort to the young king. Lady Sansa was happy to be doing what should have been Arya’s job, and had many friends and admirers. It also helped that she had won the heart of Gendry, the most desirable youth in the castle, who only had to flash his winning smile and bright blue eyes, and push his long black hair off of his forehead to cause most of the highborn maidens to swoon and daydream about him. Sansa was secretly pleased to hear girls whispering to each other, that, although King Aegon and Queen Arya made a handsome couple, Sansa and Gendry looked just like a royal pairing, too. 

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Gendry was in his chamber packing; folding clothing and placing them in his chest, when he heard his door open and click shut with a twist of the lock. He turned and saw Arya standing in front of him in a demure robe with her long chestnut hair loose and glossy. Looking at him expectantly, she intoned flatly, “You are leaving and I do not know when we will meet again.” 

They stared at each other for a moment and suddenly Gendry moved forward and swiftly lifted her up to give her a deep kiss as the she-wolf wrapped her legs around him, intentionally grinding her mound against his stiffening manhood. Their kissing was not urgent or desperate as it had been on her wedding night, but a slow and sensuous dancing of tongues. Cupping her arse with his hands, the smith walked her to the bed and eased her down, then lay on top of her, continuing the languid, serious kiss. Lust took charge and he was past reminding himself that Arya was the queen and hopefully his soon-to-be good-sister, as he believed that they were bound to each other in some other way and was certain that she felt the same way about him. 

Arya loosened her robe and cast it aside and Gendry fondled her sensitive breasts with his large gentle hands. The wolf girl’s compact body was lean and hard from constant exercise, and she had firm muscles, but her small round breasts were perfectly soft and irresistible to his hands and mouth. The enraptured youth lowered his head to kiss and suck on her breasts and bite the pert raspberry teats he knew so well as she moaned with pleasure. Arya fiddled with his laces and pushed off his breeches and smallclothes and began to fondle his rigid cock. With only the thin silk of her special tiny smallclothes between them, they writhed against each other while kissing intensely, simulating actual coitus complete with the rhythmic pulsations, loud moans, and slapping of wet flesh. 

Gendry slipped his hand into her smallclothes and found her narrow slit soaking wet and scalding hot. He slid a large finger inside of her and she moaned, “Oh, Gendry!” and pressed herself even more tightly against him, pulsating and stroking his cock feverishly, sliding it against her slit. 

He watched her face closely as she finally released an extended moan and relaxed with a sweet, satisfied expression, breathing heavily, continuing to stroke his cock until he spilled his seed into her hand, “By the gods, Arya, you are so beautiful!” he told her, entranced by her face during her climax. She licked her hand, staring into his eyes, and he copied her action, thinking, _If Sansa is as passionate in the bedroom as her sister, I will be happy forever!_

When his breathing returned to normal, Gendry gently kissed her forehead and said, “Thank you, Arya, for coming apart in my embrace. As much as I love your sister, I have frequently imagined sharing your bed. I will always remember this.” 

“And thank _you,_ Gendry, for pleasuring me. I have dreamt often of coupling with you, but what we have done will have to suffice,” Arya replied, kissing his cheek. They cuddled, kissed, and fondled each other a bit more, as he could not seem to stop kissing and playing with her breasts, but eventually Arya rose up to dress and leave. Gendry was still naked as he held her hand and entwined their fingers as he walked her to the door and kissed her mussed up hair as she opened it. She smiled up at him one last time and squeezed his softening cock, and then she was gone.

Gendry sighed and thought, _I hope I **do** see her again!_ He realized that he was obsessed with both Stark maidens, although he was not jealous that Arya had a husband and considered his relationship with the unusual wolf girl as something special. 

Arya returned to her chamber and saw Aegon there, playing his harp. He looked up and noticed how disheveled she was, but before he could speak, she came to him, took his hand to encourage him to leave his chair, imploring earnestly, “Aegon, I need you now!” 

Aegon stood and embraced her and she immediately initiated a deep kiss that promised more intimacy. He noticed a strong scent on her skin and inhaled again to identify it – _smoke!_ The distraught young king addressed the girl with an accusatory tone, “You have been with _Gendry!”_

She responded blandly, with no trace of guilt in her voice or expression, “He is leaving for Winterfell and I do not know if or when I will see him again. Now come, I _need_ you!”

She led him to the bed, dropped her robe and soaking wet smallclothes, and pulled him over her body. By the time he had squirmed out of his own clothing, he realized that her lips were swollen, her breasts and teats were damp and had obviously been fondled intensely, and her center was hot, wet, and inviting; demanding his attention. He slid him cock inside her channel, sensing how tight she was, indicating that she had not actually coupled with the huge smith, and she instantly started to throb against him. With a loud moan, Arya reached her orgasm almost immediately, while he was barely aroused but continued to pump into her until he attained his own sweet release. 

With shining eyes, Arya smiled at him and said, “Thank you, Aegon, I _do_ love you!” As they lay contented in each other’s arms, Aegon reflected how unique his bride was. There was no doubt that several lads were totally infatuated with Arya, from the youngsters Adrian and Artos, who appeared to worship her like a fairy tale princess, to the older adolescents, Gendry and Ned Dayne, who, although involved in their own serous relationships, always looked at her with adoring eyes. She did not deny that she had a great deal of affection for the latter two, but she had long ago made it clear that _he_ alone was her main man. Aegon didn’t know whether to be gratified or fretful. His new wife was the most complicated person he had encountered. However, he knew that he loved her deeply and had to accept her as strange as she was.

____________________________

Lyanna was in her chamber, organizing her possessions and preparing to pack her chest. Since she had spent the previous turn of the moon bedding with Sarra, and occasionally Lady Nym, her belongings had been scattered between the two locations, and now it was the time to put things in order for departure. The she-bear reflected on her budding Sand Snake training, and how much she had begun to enjoy her nightly excursions into the world of physical pleasure. She realized that she would miss having a bedmate and wondered if Meera would be receptive to her advances. Lady Reed was very shy and blushed at any mention of sexuality. Her Sand Snake attitude pointed out that it would be exciting to introduce the crannogwoman to lust, and she began to look forward to the attempt. Meera’s build was similar to Arya’s, and since she was going to be separated from her she-wolf friend also, mayhaps Meera would be a good substitute.

Startled, Lyanna heard someone clear their throat and realized that she was not alone in her chamber anymore. Turning, she saw that Arya had entered silently and was watching her. Lyanna welcomed her into her arms; they embraced and began to kiss passionately. Arya broke the kiss and murmured, “I will really miss you, as I have no one with whom I can spar ferociously and then just as wildly bring to pleasure as only we girls can do.” 

Lyanna suggested, “But Sarra will still be present, and you have a strong bond with her.” 

Arya replied with a sigh, “It is not the same thing, as Sarra is more like an experienced, older sister to me, always teaching and being more mature, and you are my age and my best friend forever.” She paused and bit her lip, appearing vulnerable. “I do not have another best friend, Lya.” 

Seeing that the tough wolf girl’s eyes were damp, Lyanna seized her again and kissed her cheeks, “I will _always_ be your best friend, Ary, even when a thousand leagues separate us.” 

The young queen drew in a deep breath to subdue her emotions and replied, “I look forward to visiting you in Winterfell and will make it my business to do so as soon as possible.” Then she returned her friend’s embrace and resumed their intimate behavior. 

Lady Catelyn had gone to Lyanna’s chamber to see if her chest was ready for the bearers. She stopped dead in her tracks as soon as she was through the door because she saw young Lady Mormont in a tight embrace with Arya and they were kissing. It was not just a chaste farewell kiss, but it was obvious that they were absorbed with each other and tangling tongues. Arya’s hands were kneading Lyanna’s breasts, Lyanna’s hand had been thrust into Arya’s smallclothes, and both girls were producing moans similar to hers when Ned ravished her. Catelyn felt very uncomfortable and left before she was discovered. 

Lady Stark was too ill at ease to confront either girl about what she had seen. Instead, she invited her older daughter to her solar and asked, “Sansa, what kind of relationship does your sister share with Lyanna Mormont?”

Sansa was not sure what to tell her mother. Since Arya had given her advice about the ‘Lady’s Kiss’, Sansa had been more forthright and less embarrassed about discussing physical romance with her more experienced younger sister. Sansa had fooled around experimentally with Jeyne Poole in bed, tentatively touching private areas and kissing with open mouths, but they had never been near as intimate with each other in the way Arya had described she had been with Lady Nym and Sarra, and now, obviously with Lyanna. Blushing, Sansa cautiously replied, “Arya and Lyanna are apprentice Sand Snakes, and although you might not understand their intimacy, warrior women make love to each other as men and women do.”

Lady Stark looked shocked and sat silently, pondering Sansa’s words. Sansa realized that the concept was too foreign for her mother to process immediately, so she decided to end the interview with a jape. “Look at it this way, mother dear,” she said with a lighthearted tone of voice, “it is just another example of the behavior of that ‘younger generation’ that you often complain about. Don’t try to understand it.”

____________________________

On the last night before the Stark departure, Arya heard the door squeak open and detected in the dim light a female form enter. She heard the sound of robes dropping to the floor and felt Lyanna crawl into the bed, whispering, “I had to kiss you one more time.” Arya murmured, barely awake, “I am glad you did,” and wrapped her arms around the she-bear. They pressed their bare torsos together and fondled each other as they kissed deeply before falling sleep.

Aegon became aware that the sky outside the window was becoming brighter and that his head was resting on a large, soft, warm pillow. However, the pillow seemed to have a firm teat that was pressed into his cheek. Charmed by the presence of such an unexpected and delightful object, he shifted his face and took the teat into his mouth with a mental, _Oh, yes!_ biting it gently. He cupped the other breast with one hand and heard a quiet moan, “Ummmm,” in response. _Nice!_ he thought and slid his other hand down a flat stomach and felt a temptingly plump and fur-covered mound. As _three_ fingers easily slid into a warm and wet slit, he heard a louder moan, “Mmmnnn!” as the mound pressed itself against his hand. Alarm bells went off inside his head, _**NOT ARYA!! NOT ARYA!!**_ His eyes immediately snapped open and he looked up to see Lyanna’s cute face, her eyes squeezed shut with half-sleep and her teeth biting her lower lip as she obviously was focused on the welcome invasion of her sex. Aegon instantly pulled his fingers out of the inviting slit and fell out of bed, his arse striking the floor painfully, as he shouted, “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I was asleep! I didn’t know what I was doing!” Lyanna and Arya woke up, saw him on the floor, and started laughing uncontrollably.

Arya snickered, “Husband, do you desire my friend Lya now?”

Lyanna purred, fondling her superb breasts, “Umm, I’m quite warm now, your grace. Mayhaps you would like to kiss _both_ of my twins, or give me the ’Lord’s Kiss’?

Aegon was blushing furiously, his thoughts and voice almost incoherent, “Nae! Nae! I had no intention of being improper! Please believe me!!”

Both girls were now giggling and pointing, and Arya said, “You may protest your innocence, my love, but your cock says otherwise!”

Aegon looked where they were pointing to see his member fully upright and vibrating, purple and swollen, prepared to penetrate a mouth or cunny at a moment’s notice. He blushed even more furiously and moved to cover it with his hands, feeling completely mortified and vulnerable.

Arya whispered into Lyanna’s ear and both girls turned away from him, chuckling as they got up on their hands and knees, presenting their lovely arses and wet slits to his shocked vision. 

In a teasing voice, Arya invited, “Here is your opportunity, Aegon, you can fuck or suck both of us in succession! First your wife, and then your paramour! We are eagerly waiting!”

With a screech, Aegon jumped to his feet and ran into the adjoining privy, leaping into a tub filled with last night’s cold bathwater. His manhood immediately wilted and he sighed, “Nae! What you suggest is inappropriate! Please stop!”

Lyanna shrugged, “Well, all I can say, your grace, is that it is your loss,” and curled up with Arya again, as the hour was still too early to get up for the morning meal. By the time the distraught, but now dry and uneasy lad climbed back into bed, the girls were snuggling and ignoring him. Aegon tried to go back to sleep but could not help but wonder what it would have been like to make love to Lyanna. The she-bear had long, lustrous chestnut hair and pale Northern skin like his Arya, but she also possessed a body almost as sensuous as Sarra’s. _Not helping!_ his imagination was crying, _put the she-bear out of your mind!_ He was truly exhausted by the experience and finally did fall back asleep, but not before recalling how pleasant her teat had felt on his tongue and how her entrance had gripped his fingers. 

When he awoke later, mercifully, Lyanna was gone. Arya would not let it go, smirking, “You missed your chance with Lya, Aegon. I wager you would have enjoyed giving her the ‘Lord’s Kiss’. The she-bear is very responsive.”

“Stop! I don’t want to think about it! Arya, you are going to make me crazy!” Aegon protested.

“But isn’t that why you married me?” she replied, giving him the most wide-eyed and innocent expression, “because you are crazy about me?”

The young king shook his head with despair, but managed to smile, “Lord Jon warned me about you, but he had no idea how right he was. I do love you, even if you give me no peace of mind.”

\----------------------------------------------

There was a large crowd at the dock, as many friendships had been forged during the Stark party’s visit to King’s Landing, and there were so many tearful farewells before the Northerners boarded the ship.

Arya and Lyanna were sharing one last hug. Lyanna was no longer dressed in Dornish silk, but wore her northern gown again, anticipating the colder climate. Arya murmured, “I will visit Winterfell as soon as I can.”

Lyanna told her, “I want you to meet my friend Meera Reed. She is very much like us.”

Lady Nym and Sarra came to bid Lyanna farewell, Lady Nym embraced her tightly, saying, “Keep practicing swordplay and knife work as I have taught you, my young Sand Snake. It will serve you well.”

Sarra squeezed her arse affectionately and grinned mischievously, “I will miss you in my bed, sweetling. Your curiosity for learning about lovemaking was very enjoyable.”

Theon had come over to take Lyanna’s hand, and she smiled at him, but the squid prince was looking at Sarra with a small smile. “I believe you played me for a fool, my lady.”

Sarra laughed and replied, “Mayhaps, Theon, but whatever I did was in your best interest. Are you not happy with the result?”

Now it was Theon’s turn to jape, “If my wits had been about me, I would have sampled your delectable body before turning my attention to this sweet girl,” nuzzling Lyanna’s cheek.

“I was prepared for that possibility myself, Greyjoy, and we might have had fun, but you missed your opportunity. However, do not fret, as you have Lyanna’s affection, and I find _her_ very delectable!”

Lyanna scowled, “You both think of me as a piece of meat!”

Theon could not resist, and responded, “Nae, we think of you as a piece of _arse!_ ” Sarra howled with laughter and Lyanna punched Theon in the stomach, but he was still chuckling as he bent over, gasping for breath. 

The Sand Snakes then approached Gendry and smiled at him, saying that they hoped that he was not still angry with them because of the masquerade ball. Gendry avoided what would undoubtedly been intimate embraces from the lovely Dornish girls by formally kissing their hands and keeping his distance. He returned their smiles and said, “Nae, I have reflected on your comment that I should be grateful for the attention and have taken it to heart. I consider myself fortunate that I have so many friends. It was not always thus.”

Sarra could not help but gently touch his arm and murmured, “And Lady Sansa is fortunate to possess your heart. You will be a good husband.” Gendry colored slightly at the intimate remark, but the roguish Sand Snake added with a smirk, “I wager that the wolf-girl will be crying into her pillow tonight.”

Gendry blushed a bit more at her implication and tried to defuse the situation, “I sincerely doubt that Arya will become emotional because of my departure. We _are_ good friends, but the queen has a loving husband to keep her happy.”

Holding his gaze a bit longer, Sarra replied, “Of course,” deciding not to extend his embarrassment.

With Lord Stark’s departure imminent, Lord Connington requested Lady Ashara to join him, and they discussed the issue of the bastard Jon Snow, who was actually the trueborn Jon Targaryen. Ned reminded the others the lad had taken his vows with the Night’s Watch, but the king and queen could require that his duty obligation be transferred to the realm and bring him to King’s Landing to fulfill the prophecy: ‘The dragon has three heads’. Ned said that he would visit the Wall and explain the circumstances of his birth to Jon and observe his reaction. He planned to present the options Jon was to consider and offer him advice. Lord Stark would report back to Lord Jon the results of their conversation, and mayhaps the small Targaryen family in the Red Keep would grow larger. 

Lady Catelyn and Lady Ashara said their farewells. Lady Stark had recovered from her initial jealousy of the Dornish beauty and realized that Lady Selmy, née Dayne, was not a threat to her marriage. The two noblewomen had eventually become friendlier due to their mutual interest. Lady Ashara was the closest thing to a mother for young King Aegon, and both matrons considered the irony that although Arya and Aegon comprised a wedded couple, they were emotionally still children and needed parental guidance. Lady Selmy told Lady Stark that she would observe them and keep her informed about their behavior. Lady Catelyn was embarrassed to mention it, but responded, “Please write immediately if there was any indication that Arya has become pregnant.” Lady Ashara blushed and uncomfortably admitted that the newlyweds were probably coupling about three times a day, and the likelihood of a royal pregnancy was not far-fetched. Catelyn also blushed and added, “And moon tea is not _always_ effective.”

The two new fast friends, Sansa Stark and Margaery Tyrell, embraced and told each other how much they had enjoyed meeting, as they were so very similar. They promised to write often; Sansa curious about happenings at court, and Margaery intrigued about Winterfell castle. They also planned to visit each other at some later date, and discussed activities. Finally, Sansa requested that Margaery be patient with Arya and help her with the ‘ladies in waiting’, as her tomboy sister had certainly shown how awkward she was with ladylike behavior. Margaery returned a small smile, “I will try for your sake, dear Sansa, but your sister is suspicious of me. I will offer her a truce and mayhaps she will stop waving her sword in my face.” Sansa extended her gratitude, and Lady Tyrell added roguishly, “I am hoping that with King Aegon servicing her regularly, her edginess will dissipate and she will become sweeter. I heard my grandmamma tell my mother once that Queen Cersei would have been a nicer person if King Robert had satisfied her sexually.” Sansa blushed and replied, “I am afraid that frequent coupling will only increase my sister’s energy, but we shall see.”

Aegon approached Sansa and the polite young man told her how happy he was to have her for a good-sister and wished her happiness with Gendry. Sansa told him that he was the best thing that had ever happened to her wild, unruly sister, and blessed their marriage.

Sansa saw the Dornish women, Lady Nym and Sarra, walking toward her and hoped to avoid them, but they were persistent. They smiled at her and wished her a pleasant voyage, and waggling their eyebrows, implored her to take good care of Gendry, once more mentioning that he was such a fine specimen of masculinity that they were loath to see him leave. They said that they admired how she had captured the young smith’s heart and stated that she undoubtedly had some skills that surpassed their Sand Snake knowledge. Sansa lowered her eyes and muttered something about ‘true love conquering all,’ and excused herself. She was grateful that Gendry had managed to elude all of the forward young women’s advances, and was pleased that leaving would remove him from temptation.

Robb Stark and Shireen Baratheon exchanged a tearful farewell, but bravely discussed the future. Both sets of parents had already discussed the Baratheon family’s likely visit to Winterfell, coupled with a formal announcement of their betrothal following the expected approval of the king and queen.

Robb, Theon, Gendry grinned from ear to ear as they shook hands with their new friend and liege lord, King Aegon, and smirked that they hoped that his wild young wife would not ride him to an early grave. Theon could not help but crudely add that if she fucked him to death, he would still be jealous of their bedroom antics. The sensitive lad blushed and Robb punched his best friend in the shoulder again for his ribald remarks.

Squire Adrian and Artos Flint extended their congratulations to Arya on her marriage and confessed to being jealous of the king. She grinned that she was sure that they would find happiness with the maidens they had met in King’s Landing.

The pretty and lively Manderly girls, Wynafryd and Wylla, were saying goodbye to their numerous new friends, both male and female. Even though neither daughter had landed Robb Stark, Lord Manderly would later be pleased with the suitors they had gathered from the Reach and the Crownlands.

Gendry’s parting with Arya was subdued as they had shared a passionate private leave-taking the previous afternoon. The memory was so intense that they thought they could still taste each other on their lips. He bent over to kiss her hand and said, “Be well, wolf girl, I will miss your assistance in the forge.”

Arya gazed at him, her large grey eyes causing him to wish that they were not parting at all, and murmured, “I promise that we will meet in Mikken’s smithy someday. I will miss you too.”

Gendry was surprised to find Nymeria rubbing herself against his thigh and whining, and he massaged her behind her ear, saying, “I will miss you, too, girl.” He looked at Arya and said with wonder, “I did not know she was so fond of me.”

Arya lowered her eyes and whispered, “Her emotions are often tuned in with mine.” The eyes of both youths became damp, and Gendry nodded and quickly departed before he impulsively swept her up into a passionate kiss and so embarrassed both of them in public. The smith would not have regretted deeply kissing his she-wolf one more time, but the effect it would have had on their friends and significant others would not have been good. 

Two younger couples that had only recently become romantically involved were expressing tearful farewells, as young love can be very traumatic. Adrian Byrch and Megga Tyrell, as well as Artos Flint and Alla Tyrell, embraced and planted damp kisses on each other’s cheeks, wept, and made promises to exchange ravens frequently. Lady Olenna hovered over them, suggesting that they plan possible visits, and promised that she would communicate with all their parents. The Queen of Thorns smiled to herself, thinking, _I have tended my flowers, and see how my garden grows!_

Lady Olenna, informed of the castle romances by her favorite granddaughter, clever Lady Margaery, had previously discussed betrothal plans for the boys with Lady Stark because they were wards of Winterfell. Catelyn did not trust Lady Olenna as she seemed far too calculating for her comfort. Lady Stark warily said to the Queen of Thorns, “You have been very busy, my lady.” 

Lady Olenna returned a shrewd, toothless smile, “I have been likened to the sea tiger. If I stop swimming, I will sink and die.” 

Tears flowed freely down Arya’s cheeks as she hugged her father tightly and bawled that she didn’t want him to leave, as unashamed with her emotions as though she was a little child again. Lord Stark gazed poignantly at his favorite daughter, kissed the unruly hair on the top of her head, and murmured, “Arya, sweetling, you have a husband now, and he will take my place when you think you need my support. But of course, you can always count on my love.” He looked over at Aegon, who was standing silently nearby. His voice choked as he said, “Your grace, take good care of my beloved daughter. She is more precious than any jewel.” Gently he released Arya, steering her into Aegon’s arms.

Aegon solemnly replied as he tenderly embraced his young wife, “Good-father, I worship your sweet girl, and will devote my life to keeping her safe and making her happy.” Arya was still too overcome with emotion to protest that she didn’t need a man to protect her.

Lady Catelyn was startled to see her youngest son Rickon in an animated conversation with a pretty little maiden of an age with him. By the rose brooch on her stylish gown, she was obviously a Tyrell. Lady Stark approached the pair and Rickon spied his mother. He enthusiastically addressed her, saying, “Mother! Come meet my friend, Lady Alysanne Bulwer. Aly and I have had a jolly time playing come-into-my-castle, hide-the-treasure, and monsters-and-maidens with the other children and by ourselves, although sometimes she insists on being the monster and I have to be the maiden!”

Lady Stark looked closely at the child. She was certainly pretty in the same demure way as most of the other Tyrell maidens, and Lady Catelyn concluded that she was probably another of Lady Margaery’s numerous cousins. Although she was clean and well-dressed, her hair was loose and slightly disheveled and her mischievous face glowed from physical activity. Catelyn realized that the girl’s demeanor bore a startling resemblance to Arya at that age. 

Flanked by her seven foot tall twin guardians that she called Left and Right, the Queen of Thorns approached with a smile that unnerved Lady Stark with its insincerity, and she spoke in a dry, aged voice, “Greetings, my lady, I see that you have met my great-granddaughter, Alysanne. It seems that she has forged a strong friendship with your young wolf.”

Upon hearing the voice of the Tyrell matriarch, little Lady Bulwer turned and pleaded, “Grandmamma, I want to visit Rickon at Winterfell! He has told me all about the North and I want to see it for myself! Do you know that there is snow around his castle even in the summertime?!”

Rickon parroted her, “Aye, mama! Can Aly visit Winterfell?”

Lady Olenna took up the role of the doting grandparent and replied sweetly, “We shall see, child, you may exchange letters with young Rickon and mayhaps his mother and I will discuss your future. What say you, Lady Stark?”

Lady Catelyn was nonplussed, thinking, _this manipulative old woman is already seeking to betroth her kin to my babe without any concerns for my intentions!_ She paused to breathe and compose herself and casually responded, “We shall see, we shall see,” facing her hopeful son. Turning to the Queen of Thorns, she said, “If I appear cautious, my lady, consider that my younger daughter, _Queen_ Arya, was not treated very well by your kin.”

Lady Olenna looked like she had bitten a sour apple and replied, “Ah, that. Consider the unfortunate accusations a miscalculation on my part, and in any case, no real harm was done.” Catelyn stared at her without any sign of weakening, and the matriarch of Highgarden continued, leaning on her cane as to appear more harmless. “You failed to mention that your _sweet child_ is also a _Dornish soldier_ and was responsible for the deaths of a number of my bannermen, including a _knight!_ I do not consider that a friendly gesture either!”

Lady Catelyn was steadfast and did not break eye contact, “Aye, Arya did fight against the Tyrell army, but _only_ because your family was allied at that time with the evil Lannisters! Her behavior was commendable.” 

Now the wily old woman’s eyes flashed and she smiled as though she had made a winning cyvasse move. “Joining with the Lannister’s was a stupid mistake perpetrated by my oaf of a son. I only reluctantly supported the union. Mayhaps we can rectify the error and improve the relationship between North and South by encouraging your handsome youngest son’s friendship with my spirited great-granddaughter. They seem to have already formed a bond. What say you, my lady?”

Catelyn stared at the devious woman with a stony gaze, “I will discuss this matter with my lord husband _when_ we are in Winterfell. You will receive a raven with our decision afterwards. Of course, my son has _many_ interests and distractions, and young Rickon may have forgotten the girl by the time he arrives home.”

Lady Olenna bowed her head slightly and answered neutrally, “I shall wait eagerly for your response, Lady Stark,” and melted away, tightly gripping little Lady Bulwer’s arm even as she protested she wasn’t finished saying farewell to Rickon, who looked very disappointed.

Eventually the tide was high and all the Northerners climbed aboard their vessel, the direwolves being lead on ropes as Nymeria whined on the dock at the loss of her littermates. The sailors shouted as they cast off the mooring lines and the ship glided out into the harbor. As the sails filled with a favorable wind, both the voyagers and those left behind wiped their eyes and waved furiously until the ship was out of sight. The members of the court looked at each other, sighed, and clutching each other for comfort returned to the castle and normal life. At least, they hoped it would be normal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lady Olenna is a fascinating character. To get some insight into her mind, I suggest reading Chapter 6, ‘Sansa’, in “A Storm of Swords”. The conversation between the Queen of Thorns and the bewildered Stark girl is both hilarious and frightening. I have more plans for this delightful personality in this fic.
> 
> I have tried to be accurate in my depictions of the Tyrell cousins. In Chapter 16 of “A Storm of Swords”, Sansa described Megga as ‘round and loud’, Alla as ‘shy and pretty’, and little Lady Bulwer ‘reminded her of Arya, though not as fierce’.
> 
> I hope you recognized ‘The Godfather’ reference. I love using anachronisms like that, and the fic is loaded with them. There will be another ‘Godfather’ quote later on.


	69. Life after the Departures

“The Honored Guest” ... Chapter 69 ... Life After the Departures 

\-------------------------------------------- 

On shipboard, destination White Harbor:

Late in the afternoon one day after departure, the ship approached the mouth of Blackwater Bay and the waves became less choppy and the wind steadier from one direction. The vessel ceased to roll, allowing the passengers to gather on the deck and enjoy their voyage. They were moving briskly on a course to the northeast, eager to enter the Narrow Sea, with the sails set on a beam reach, making for a pleasant experience on a fine sunny day. Lady Catelyn strolled about the deck with Septa Mordane on her arm for company. The lady of Winterfell looked about, observing her family and vassals. Lord Stark and the older boys were all at the rail, pointing and trying to name landmarks as they passed. Artos and Adrian were talking casually, no doubt recalling all the new experiences they had had in the capital. Sansa, Jeyne, and the Manderly girls were bunched around a handsome, young apprentice seaman with adorable brown curls who was japing and weaving shapes with knotted line to entertain them, as they giggled and blushed demurely. 

Lyanna was practicing her knife work with a target nailed to the main mast and had attracted a small crowd of sailors. Knife-throwing was a favorite pastime of sailors, and the vivacious young girl with flashing eyes, a ready smile, long, lustrous chestnut hair, and perfect aim, must have been a welcome vision for them. Catelyn noticed that several of the younger men were admiring her skill but also seemed to be aware of how her shapely breasts bounced within her gown every time she released a blade. One sailor’s eyes seemed to be glued to her curvaceous bum. Lady Stark inwardly sighed and thought, _it’s best if I keep an eye on this forward girl; she is likely to find trouble._ She strolled some more, enjoying the cool breeze, and the next time she glanced at Lyanna, she had her right sleeve rolled up and was showing a pair of rapt sailors how strong her arm was from sparring. The sailors were squeezing her bicep, nodding and smiling as they agreed with the maiden’s boasting.

Lady Catelyn walked over to Theon and said, “Lord Greyjoy, I recommend that you give your betrothed some attention, as mayhaps she has attracted the wrong kind at this moment.” Theon looked over at Lyanna, who was now rolling up her left sleeve to exhibit the muscles on that arm, and he replied with a startled expression, “Aye, my lady, I’d best scotch that activity posthaste!” 

As he rapidly approached the ingenuous girl, he distinctly heard one sailor ask, “I wager that your thighs are as strong as your arms. Might I touch one and determine if I am right?”

Not wanting to cause a scene, especially because several blades were present and unsheathed, Theon cleared his throat, and addressed the she-bear, “My lady, would you accompany me? There is something I would like to show you. Gentlemen, would you please excuse Lady Mormont? Thank you.” Theon was wearing a costly tunic embroidered with his kraken sigil, and the sailors, realizing that both he and the fetching maiden were obviously highborn, nodded and bowed, and backed away.

One sailor who had not lost his tongue stated, “Thank you for displaying your skill for us, milady. I look forward to more demonstrations of your art.”

Pert Lyanna rewarded him with a bright smile, and later his mates teased that he was obviously in love with the maiden.

Theon led her to the rail and pointed out the sea-curs on the small, rocky islands jutting up sharply out of the water. Sea-curs were furred sea creatures like sea-jesters, but whereas sea-jesters were shaped like fish and spent their entire life in the water, sea-curs had bodies similar to hounds, but instead of legs, they possessed strong back flippers that were necessary for climbing on the rocks. The animals were barking like hounds as the ship sailed by, thus demonstrating how they had been named. Lyanna was delighted and asked, “Oh, Theon! I have seen them near Bear Island, also! They are so cute! Could we take one home?”

Theon grinned, “Alas, my lady, I don’t think they would thrive in the kennels of Winterfell. They require ocean water to thrive.”

The she-bear appeared disappointed but nodded in understanding. Then she smirked at him and coyly asked, “Theon, I believe that the sea-curs were not the only reason that you accosted me. Mayhaps jealousy played a part in your actions, am I right?”

Theon looked uncomfortable and replied, “You were allowing those coarse sailors to become quite familiar, Lyanna. Were you not aware how they leered at your figure?” 

Lyanna laughed, “The sailors that were admiring my knife skills were harmless, Theon. If any _did_ have the wrong idea, remember that _I_ was the one with the blades. I _do_ admit to being flattered by their attention.”

The prince of the Iron Islands gazed at the spirited young girl and sighed, “Aye, you are certain to attract constant male attention. I will try not to be a pathetic complainer.”

Continuing her stroll, Lady Stark noticed that Rickon was sitting glumly on a coil of rope, patting his direwolf, Shaggydog, who appeared subdued, obviously affected by his master’s mood. She accosted her youngest and asked, “Why are you sad, sweetling? Do you feel ill?” She put her hand on his forehead, noting it did not feel warm, but was surprised to see that he had instantly directed an unfriendly countenance her way when she first opened her mouth.

With a bitter tone of voice, Rickon complained, “You interrupted us when Aly and I were saying farewell, and then you started to fight with her grandmamma. We never really got to say goodbye and _it’s all your fault!”_

Lady Stark was shocked by how agitated and angry the lad was, and replied, “But Rickon, Lady Tyrell dragged the girl away. It wasn’t _my_ fault! Besides, you had been speaking with her for a long time. Wasn’t that enough?”

“Aly’s cousins Megga and Alla told her that a proper farewell has to end with a kiss or you may never meet again! Aly didn’t kiss me because of you and her grandmamma, and now I may never see her again!” the lad accused as he glared at his mother, more dismayed than angry.

 _Megga and Alla? Those two silly, empty-headed maidens that the Queen of Thorns would betroth to my wards! Will I get no respite from these Tyrells!_ Catelyn fumed.

She patted Rickon’s arm and said, “There, there, I am sure that you will feel better when you get home and see all your friends again.”

But her stubborn wolf child would not be placated. “But I will _never_ see Aly again and I wanted to show her Winterfell! Mama, you just _don’t_ understand!” and he stalked away with his direwolf, disappearing down the companionway. 

Catelyn looked after her distraught youngest child, and angrily thought, _As soon as I can find a raven, I will write to Arya and tell her to stick that meddling crone with her Needle! I am sick to death with her machinations!_ But she knew that she would never really write that to Arya because her hot-blooded younger daughter, if asked, would not hesitate to skewer Lady Tyrell without any regret. 

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Back in the Red Keep:

After the Starks and all the other visitors departed, life returned to normal in the Red Keep. Arya continued to take her academic lessons with the maester, sparred with Ser Rolly and Bokko, and did not neglect her Sand Snake training. The young queen reluctantly held teas with her ‘ladies in waiting’, desperately trying to hide her stifling boredom as they discussed gowns, their beaus, and castle gossip. She would never admit it, but she was grateful that Lady Margaery took Sansa’s place as the moderator of the conversations because if it were left up to her, the room would have been uncomfortably silent. Desperate to avoid needlework, Arya took up watercolor painting to pass the time while the other girls did their embroidery. Lady Margaery’s skill with a needle was much admired and Arya bit her tongue to keep from saying that she would love to demonstrate _her_ skill with a Needle using the Tyrell lass as target. 

To Arya’s annoyance, the maidens always asked her about King Aegon as they were all infatuated with the handsome lad with his Targaryen purple eyes and silver hair. They sighed and told Arya that she must feel like a fairy tale princess to be wed to such a dream prince. The she wolf would even have tolerated hearing a ribald comment or two, as grinning soldiers often directed suggestive remarks at her and she had ready retorts, but the maidens were much to prim to do so.

To keep herself from going mad, the adventurous wolf girl tried to get the young ladies outdoors for real horseback riding, but all they wanted to do was to trot to a picnic spot near the river for tea, cakes, and more gossip. Arya described how much fun they could have sparring with wooden swords, but they only laughed and pinched her cheeks, telling her that she was “so cute, such a little tomboy”. They turned to Lady Margaery for ladylike leadership and the Tyrell beauty suggested that the young queen might feel more confident with a Southern hairstyle and gown. It didn’t help that Arya was among the youngest present, as most of the maidens were closer to Margaery’s age and behaved more worldly. Arya fumed, _They would dress me like one of Sansa’s porcelain dolls! I don’t know how much of this I can take!_

Arya was most disgusted that the maidens closest to her age were mainly the Tyrell cousins – Megga, Alla, and Elinor, who was already betrothed to a squire and was treated as if she were older. Arya was surprised to learn that the lass with whom she was the most comfortable was also the youngest of them all, a bold little spitfire called Lady Alysanne Bulwer. Although the girl only possessed eight namedays, her mother had died, making her the senior female of her House, and her cousins always used the honorific. Lady Alysanne was the only maiden present who expressed enthusiasm for learning swordplay. Arya was amused to hear Megga and Alla discussing boys and chuckled to hear them swoon over the possibility of getting betrothed to Adrian and Artos, but was shocked to hear Megga say that little Lady Bulwer was going to wed Rickon Stark. _That’s news to me!_ she thought. Arya casually asked the youngster about Rickon and the ingenuous child prattled, “Aye, Rickon and I love each other and my grandmamma is going to arrange for me to travel to Winterfell and marry him.” _I wonder if Mother is aware of this plan,_ she thought.

The serious warrior woman started to teach the water dance to Lady Alysanne in the practice yard, but Lady Olenna found out and scotched the lessons immediately, sniffing with her nose in the air that the activity was filthy and unladylike. Lady Alysanne sulked, and Arya found the opportunity to pull rank on the Tyrell matriarch. She ordered the Queen of Thorns to allow Aly continue her swordplay, stating, “If you are serious about a match between Lady Bulwer and my brother Rickon, she would be expected to know something about combat.” Lady Olenna fumed even more when Lady Alysanne demanded to wear breeches like Arya, as her fancy gowns were not practical for training. She also desired to wear her long hair in a braid, and Olenna was distraught but had to agree. Arya was pleased to be dressed as a squire again and doing something useful as she instructed the child in the art of war. Lady Olenna observed her and thought, _This Stark queen may appear young and guileless, but she is clever and strong-willed, and usually gets her way. She may actually be a formidable adversary for me! I must remember that she does not just **play** at swords, but has brought death to members of my house **and** the Lannisters!_

 _This ‘ladies in waiting’ clique seems to be more like Sansa’s sewing circle than anything else,_ Arya fumed, but the girls begged Arya to enlist King Aegon to continue Sansa’s ‘culture club’ activities. Arya reflected that her husband’s presence might make the meetings more tolerable for her, and to her surprise, Aegon readily agree when she asked him. Finding the necessary time amid his other afternoon activities, he discussed romantic literature, history, and art with the educated maidens, and played familiar music on his harp for them. Aegon had a beautiful singing voice and led them in song, but Arya kept her mouth shut, as her singing voice was actually painful to the ears, and she had been reminded of this fact often back at Winterfell. Aegon played for them songs he had composed himself and the ladies swooned at the expression of his sensitive soul. Aegon told them, as he had previously informed Sansa’s ‘culture club’, that his queen was his muse and the font of his creativity, gazing at her fondly. Arya quickly made eye contact with Lady Margaery and stuck out her tongue at the annoyed maiden, feeling very pleased with herself. Later, when they were all passing out of the chamber, Margaery gave Arya a nasty pinch on the arm and quickly moved away. _I promised my friend Sansa to be nice to her sister, but that brat is impossible!_ she thought. 

At the next meeting of the ‘ladies’ that Aegon was going to attend, Lady Margaery, who was always attired in a typical court gown with a low neckline, arrived in an eye-catching sky blue dress with a neckline deeper than normal and an extremely tight bodice. The other maidens cooed and told her that she looked magnificent. She had mainly planned to attract Aegon’s attention, and in that she was very successful. The young king’s gaze was often on her voluptuous figure, and he even stumbled over the words to a song when she bent over slightly. At her first opportunity, Margaery caught Arya’s eye and blew her a kiss. _All right, the bitch wins this tilt,_ Arya seethed, _Aegon has a fondness for a set of large udders, and that cow is certainly well-endowed! I’ll get back at him later!_ That evening Arya rode her husband to exhaustion and had no regrets.

The young queen was surprised to find an ally from an unexpected quarter. One afternoon, Lady Margaery brought Prince Quentyn Martell to the gathering. On the previous evening their betrothal had been formally announced by the lady’s proud father, with the blessing of Queen Daenerys and King Aegon. With a deadpan expression, Lady Margaery introduced her betrothed to the young queen first, and trying to be nice, Arya intoned that Lady Tyrell had been most accommodating in helping her direct the activities in her solar. Prince Quentyn greeted Arya with a wide smile and kissed her hand, saying, “I am most pleased to make your acquaintance, your grace, as we are actually good-cousins now. Your marriage to King Aegon makes you a member of the Martell family. My dear sister Princess Arianne met you in Dorne and spoke very highly of you.” 

Arya muttered her congratulations for the betrothal and thanked him for the compliment, trying not to scowl at Margaery, who was standing close to her and also trying to maintain a blank expression.

The enthusiastic prince continued, “My cousins Nymeria, Obara, Tyene, and Sarra told me that you have entered their Sand Snake sisterhood, and that you are a formidable warrior, even participating in the battle of the roseroad and the siege of King’s Landing! I am very impressed, as you appear to be a demure and harmless young maiden!”

The young queen smiled now and replied, “In truth, my favorite occupation is employing my swords, spear, and knives in the practice yard or the battlefield.”

“In that case, you are a true woman of Dorne, your grace! The Starks of Winterfell have a long and illustrious history, and in your person, you represent the hopes of a unified and prosperous Westeros!” Quentyn exclaimed.

Arya tried not to roll her eyes, thinking, _He is as effusive as Aegon! I hope he is only another romantic nobleman and not addled!_

Turning to his bride-to-be, Quentyn suggested, “My lady, you will make a favorable impression on my kinfolk when we go to Sunspear if you can demonstrate knowledge of swordplay. Mayhaps Queen Arya would be kind enough to give you some instruction.” He gazed at Arya with a questioning expression as Margaery, standing beside him, suppressed her horrified reaction to his words. The prince obviously had no idea of the dynamics of Margaery’s relationship with Arya, and that the two maidens hated each other’s guts.

“I would love to exchange blows with Lady Margaery in the training yard, my prince,” Arya grinned, thinking, _This wench may be much bigger than me, but I wager I could knock her on her arse in a minute!_ Turning to Margaery, Arya queried slyly, “What say you, my lady, would you like to meet me in the training yard for _some instruction?”_

Responding blandly as a well-trained courtier would, Lady Margaery replied, “Thank you, your grace, I will consider your offer.” 

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When Arya was done with lessons and freed from her ‘lady of the castle’ obligations, she often escaped to her favorite places in the Red Keep – the kitchens and the stables. As in Winterfell and Harrenhal, she had quickly become friends with the cooks and scullions, and did not mind chopping vegetables, stirring pots, or kneading dough as she chatted and japed informally with the staff. The mood in the kitchen was invariably lighthearted and friendly, and she greatly preferred spending time in the kitchen rather than the throne room. Knowing that Queen Arya was comfortable with their familiarity, the cooks loved to tease the young bride, trying to make her blush with questions about her connubial behavior and when a babe would appear. They were very fond of the sociable girl and catered to her well-known sweet tooth.

Most Starks were born to the saddle, and Arya was no exception. She loved to ride her sand steed, Vhagar, and took good care of the mare. She fed and watered her horse as often as she could, groomed her frequently, and even cleaned and refreshed her stall when time allowed. The grooms were amazed, as very few females, especially highborn ones, entered the stable except to fetch a horse for riding, and those ladies barely acknowledged the stableboys when they did so. Arya spoke familiarly and discussed equine issues with them, which was one of her favorite pastimes as a Northern child. She always dressed in garb of the smallfolk for working in the stable, and one bold young squire, who had not been informed of her actual rank, came up behind her and encircled her waist with his arm, nuzzled the back of her neck and stroked her braid, suggesting that he could provide her with much entertainment in the hayloft. The other lads looked horrified, but Arya turned her head, smiled at him with a coquettish expression, and asked, “I suppose that you will make me feel like a queen?”

The intrepid youth, thinking that the pretty maiden was receptive to his overtures, confidently responded, “Aye, sweetling, you will sing like a queen while I pleasure you,” as he pulled her closer to his aroused torso.

“Well,” she replied, “I will have to compare your skill to my husband’s, who is actually the king.”

The youth looked startled, and heard another groom hiss, “You fool, you are fondling her grace, Queen Arya!” He released her immediately as though she were a hot coal, and started to stammer apologies, bowing and backing away until he turned a corner, and then ran for his life. Arya and the stableboys had a good laugh, and the squire was always obsequious and embarrassed any time he encountered her in the stable afterwards. His nickname became ‘Squire Fool’ after the incident, and he was mortified the next day when Arya winked at him.

Arya also loved to go into King’s Landing, wandering through the lively marketplace, talking to bakers, shopkeepers, and farmers, and buying lemon cakes. Although she was always attired in a modest gown, Lord Jon insisted that she must have guards, so she agreed to have two of ‘Bloody Bessie’s Boys’ accompany her. It was obvious that she was a highborn maiden, but her presence did not cause the disruption that would surely erupt if the residents discovered the queen was among them. Arya even took the opportunity to visit Tobho Mott’s shop on the Street of Steel, curious to see how Gendry had lived growing up in the city, and even bought a small blade from him.

The young warrior woman also returned to artillery practice with her personal crew, focusing on improving the accuracy of her weapons. Her soldiers welcomed her back, and familiarly asked about her married life, knowing that she herself enjoyed a ribald jape. Arya no longer tried to appear as a demure maiden in silk robes, but attended them attired in her favorite fighting clothes; consisting of her trimmed bodice which revealed her muscular arms and the smooth ivory skin of her bare stomach, and her butchered breeches, which exposed her shapely thighs. On the first afternoon, while bending over one of the catapults and absorbed in adjusting the hardware, she looked around and realized that two young soldiers were paying more attention to the curve of her bottom and her bare legs than their jobs. She pulled out her shortsword and smacked each one on the arse, scolding, “Oye! Any distraction on the battlefield could bring about your death! Stay focused!” They blushed and apologized and were careful not to let their captain catch them gawking at her figure in the future, but thoughts of her form disturbed their dreams at night. 

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Aegon also had a busy schedule. After morning lessons with the maester and sparring practice after the midday meal, he rode with his aunt Daenerys to the Dragon Pit to learn how to fly and control his dragon. The dragon queen instructed him how to employ a dragon for combat, and taught him the necessary verbal and physical commands and directions. The most important one was the command, 'Dracarys!' which was used to order the dragons to produce their fire breath. Daenerys warned her nephew to be careful with the word, as once Jorah Mormont had unthinkingly uttered it in the presence of Drogon and had his beard singed. Ser Jorah was fortunate that he had not been badly burned.

Aegon relished flying and sometimes just went for pleasure flights to test his skills and enjoy the view. One afternoon, Arya requested to accompany him, eager to repeat her first wonderful journey into the sky. She climbed up behind him and placed her arms around his waist to steady herself on the dragon’s back. After they had become comfortable in the air describing wide circles over the city and the surrounding countryside, Arya’s hand slid down from Aegon’s waist to his groin and began to fondle his cock. Soon it was rigid and demanded attention, and the flustered king complained, “Arya! Stop that! I can’t concentrate!” The forward girl just giggled and ignored him, continuing to stroke his member.

Aegon became agitated and shouted, “That is enough! Here, come around and sit in front of me!” They maneuvered their positions and soon Arya was sitting in front, but immediately began to grind her arse into his crotch. Now Aegon protested, “Arya, now I am totally aroused! What are you trying to do to me?!”

Arya laughed, “Isn’t it obvious?” She spun around, and soon she was sitting in his lap, face to face, and she began to unlace his breeches and smallclothes. Aegon had wondered why she had chosen to wear a gown for the excursion, and reaching under it, he learned that his bride was not wearing any smallclothes at all, only her silk stockings, whose touch always increased the level of his excitement. Before he knew what was happening, Arya placed his member into her slit, and then they were moaning and pulsating against each other, high up in the sky. Aegon tried to remember to hold onto the reins as their focus began to become limited to each other.

Rhaegal sensed that something unusual was occurring on his back, and turned his head enough to eye the copulating couple. Arya gently touched the dragon’s mind and read surprise and confusion, as the beast had no idea what the humans could be doing. Arya insisted on remaining entwined until they had achieved two orgasms, and then she turned around with a sigh. Aegon wrapped his arm around her waist and kissed the back of her neck, murmuring, “Wolf girl, you will always keep me guessing what is on your mind.”

When they landed, Arya asked, “Aegon, how high were we? I would love to tell Sarra that we fucked a mile above the ground.”

Aegon shook his head with a small smile, “Close enough. Isn’t it enough that we made love on the back of a dragon? I wonder if we are the first to do so.”

The bold queen retorted, “I hope so!” 

Later she recommended the practice to Queen Daenerys, who, after recovering from shock at Arya’s description of their activities, laughed and replied, “Daario told me that he would never, ever climb on the back of my dragons. He distrusts them so much that we could never copy your actions.” When she told Sarra, the adventurous Dornish girl insisted that Aegon take her and Ned into the sky so they see what it was like.

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Lord Jon was aware of what life was like after wartime for the military, and ordered the release of conscripts to their former lives as overseen by their liege lords, and they were given compensation for their time served. Sellswords received payment for services rendered, and some companies were put to use fighting bandits and renegades in the Stormlands, Crownlands, and the Reach. Westerosi exiles in Golden Company and among Daenerys’ sellswords received lands as promised, and the rest of the fighting men were kept occupied practicing weapons training to retain their skills. 

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Life was beginning to slip into a predictable pattern in the Red Keep, and the new regime’s administrators, Lord Jon, Queen Daenerys, the Assistant Hand Sarra, were finding time to deal with minor matters such as repair efforts on the walls and gates, and the city’s chronic sewage problem. Just as they were beginning to believe that their jobs were boring, a troubled Haldon approached the trio working in the chamber of the small council. “My lord,” he said, handing several sheets of parchment to Lord Jon, "I have received ravens from Winterfell and Castle Black as well as Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.”

He read the messages quickly and passed them to Daenerys, then gravely told the maester, “It has begun. Call a meeting of the Small Council and our military leaders.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: Dark Wings, Dark Words


	70. Dark Wings, Dark Words

The Honored Guest Chapter 70 Dark Wings, Dark Words

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Previously:

Just as the new regime’s administrators, Lord Jon, Queen Daenerys, and the Assistant Hand Sarra were beginning to believe that their jobs were boring; a troubled Haldon approached the trio working in the chamber of the small council. “My lord,” he said, handing several sheets of parchment to Lord Jon, “I have received ravens from Winterfell and Castle Black as well as Eastwatch-by-the-Sea.” 

He read the messages quickly and passed them to Daenerys, then gravely told the maester, “It has begun. Call a meeting of the Small Council and our military leaders.”

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Winterfell 

Before breaking their fast, Jojen Reed and Bran Stark rushed to Lady Stark’s solar and informed Ned and Catelyn of the previous night’s visions. In an agitated voice, Bran related, “Our dreams of the ‘Ice Man’ are identical and have become more intense, more threatening.” 

Jojen added, “We have both see him killing wildings and marching an army towards a castle of the Wall near the sea.” 

“Aye,” Bran continued, “we both feel very cold when he appears. It’s almost as if we were awake and there is a ghost in the room.”

Now Jojen appeared very worried, “Last night he stared right at me with his evil blue eyes and said that he is coming to kill me; that he is angry that I can enter his mind and know what he is doing.” 

Maester Luwin reluctantly admitted that the lads’ portrayal of the monster in their shared nightmares perfectly matched the physical description of the Night King, the leader of the White Walkers, whom legend declared, would bring back the Long Night, and destroy the peoples of Westeros. The maester was doubtful about the power of magic, but urged Lord Stark to take precautions anyway.

Lady Stark anxiously asked, “Can he hurt my son? How can we protect him?” 

“I don’t know. I don’t believe that he can hurt the boys in their dreams. But he knows where they are,” the troubled maester replied.

Lord Stark ordered Maester Luwin to send a raven to Lord Connington in King’s Landing immediately, informing him of the possible danger. 

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Castle Black

Following the death of Lord Mormont during the disastrous ‘Great Ranging’ north of the Wall, his steward Jon Snow was elected Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch. The vote was not unanimous, but Jon had many loyal supporters, and the serious young man, though very young, had been trying to fill his accomplished predecessor’s role. ‘Lord Snow’ had proven his talent for leadership by driving back the wilding attack following the Ranging, which had been a difficult task. However, his limited numbers of fighters had prevailed against the large force of the free folk. The attackers had retreated to the woods and out of arrow and catapult range to lick their wounds and plot their next step.

Being Lord Commander was rapidly aging the solemn young man. He believed that he was following in his father’s footsteps by devoting all his energy to leading the fabled organization. The one bright spot in Jon’s life was that, among the surviving wildings that had accompanied him over the Wall was a young spearwife named Ygritte, who would be his wife if men of the Watch were allowed to marry. Ygritte was camped with other captured free folk outside the village of Mole’s Town, and Jon visited her there, feeling ashamed about their relationship, but relished the time that he spent with her. 

Not long after the Watch became aware that a dread army of the undead was forming beyond the Wall, Jon received and unusual request: Mance Rayder, the King-beyond-the Wall, begged the Watch for protection for his family and the other free folk. The White Walkers had attacked the gathered peoples of the Land of Always Winter, easily slaying many wildings, whose weapons had little effect on the formidable foe. Such was their fear of the army of magical warriors; that the free folk agreed to throw down their arms and remain in guarded camps if allowed to pass under the Wall into safety. Once in the presence of the Lord Commander, Rayder first warned him that the White Walkers intended to attack the Wall next, and then was ashamed to report that when the Night King’s army overran his camp and forced his court to flee immediately, they acquired a recently rediscovered precious object: the Horn of Joramun, also known as Horn of Winter. Legend said that the first time Joramun, who had been the King-Beyond-the-Wall thousands of years ago, blew the horn, he raised the giants, and blowing it again will bring down the Wall. Now the Horn was in the possession of the Night King, and he had the means to threaten the Watch.

Benjen Stark, John Snow’s uncle, and the First Ranger, was the member of the Night’s Watch most familiar with life beyond the Wall, and he confirmed that the enemy was formidable.

Jon told Samwell Tarly, the maester’s steward, to send ravens to Winterfell and King’s Landing immediately, pleading for help in combatting the forces of evil. 

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Eastwatch

Commander Cotter Pike assessed the reports of the army of White Walkers massing north of the Wall. He expected an attack, and he also sent ravens to Winterfell and King’s Landing, warning of the menace. Commander Pike also sent a messenger to the Last Hearth, home of the Umbers, Lord Stark’s most northerly bannermen. If the White Walkers broke through the Wall, the Umbers would be in immediate danger. 

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King’s Landing

A grim-faced Lord Connington faced the Small Council and the leaders of Westeros. “We have defeated the Baratheon and Lannister regime, but that effort may appear to be child’s play when compared to the threat we must now face. Many of us who have lived south of the Neck have always considered stories of ‘The Others’ and monsters beyond the Wall as fairy tales used to frighten children into good behavior, but I must now inform you that ‘The Others’ are real and have already killed thousands of people just in the last few days.”

A collective gasp arose from the gathering and many turned to each other with comments and questions.

Lord Jon continued, “I am not talking about a loose confederation of ghouls shambling from village to village in the Land of Always Winter, but an organized army of the undead, called ‘White Walkers’ in the North, armed with terrible ice swords, mounted on undead steeds, and led by the Night King, an enemy of man, full of hate, whose goal is to rid Westeros of humans.” 

A lord from the Stormlands spoke up, “But surely the Wall and the Night’s Watch will shield the lower kingdoms from such an enemy. The Wall is eight hundred feet high and has served as a barrier for thousands of years. How can there be trouble now?”

“Aye, we have always assumed that the Wall would keep us safe,” the Hand replied, “but we have received ravens from the north bearing information that panicked wildings are begging for the protection of the Night’s Watch, and safe passage under the Wall at Castle Black, as well reports that Eastwatch-by-the-Sea is being threatened. Lord Stark and his bannermen are preparing to repel an invasion. I fear that our time of peace has come to an abrupt end.” 

Lord Connington sighed, “In recent years, we Southerners have rarely contemplated or appreciated the Night’s Watch and subsequently that proud legion has diminished in number from tens of thousands to mere hundreds of men, many of whom are disgraced criminals and not true soldiers. We have also learned that the fell enemy has the means to bring down the Wall. Thus, all of Westeros is in danger.” 

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Castle Black 

Tyrion Lannister had traveled to the Wall from Winterfell when King Robert and his reluctant new Hand, Ned Stark, had journeyed south. The inquisitive young lord had desired to see the ‘edge of the world’ and to explore the extensive library of Castle Black, known for its collection of ancient volumes that held the earliest secrets of the realm. With the Targaryen invasion, Tyrion had been trapped at Wall, isolated from his family in King’s Landing. After the death of his siblings and lord father, he opted to remain in the North for safety’s sake. The voracious reader used his time to investigate the legends of dragons, his favorite subject. Although Trion had scoffed at tales of ‘snarks and grumpkins’ all his life, assuming that they were mythical creatures, he realized that Northerners accepted the existence of ‘The Others’ and wights as real beings. Tyrion’s innate curiosity caused him to begin to research the accounts of ‘The Others’, or ‘White Walkers’ as they were called in the North and among the wildings beyond the Wall. 

He learned that White Walkers were fearless fighters, incredibly powerful and tireless in battle; characteristics that inspired hopelessness in the humans forced to confront them. Their glowing blue eyes and pale, withered appearance caused the bravest warriors to tremble with fear. The crystal swords of the White Walkers were extremely sharp and deadly, and even caused steel blades to become brittle and shatter on contact. 

Tyrion had heard the accounts of Rangers encountering undead creatures called ‘wights’ beyond the Wall. Wights were another being he had previously thought to be the subject of mythology, but now he had to accept their existence. He read that wights were reanimated corpses, the unfortunate victims of the White Walkers, and included both humans and animals. The White Walkers often rode undead horses. Human wights also had glowing blue eyes and attacked living men with the same ferocity as White Walkers, although they were clumsy and inept fighters.

Studying the ancient books brought to him by the maester’s steward, Samwell Tarly, Tyrion read with dread and dismay that White Walkers were impervious to normal steel blades, but was relieved to learn that they were susceptible to dragonglass and Valerian steel, and wights could be easily killed by dragonglass and fire.

Tyrion became friendly with the shy and vastly overweight steward because he loved books and was very intelligent, which led to many interesting discussions between the two scholars. Tyrion had discovered that they had something in common. Both their fathers had rejected their sons - Tyrion because he was a dwarf and Samwell because he was frightened of everything and was hopeless with weapons.

While living in Castle Black, Tyrion also found the Lord Commander, Jon Snow, to be a good friend and had long ago pointed out that they were similar. Upon meeting the brooding young man at Winterfell, Tyrion opined, “All dwarves are bastards in their father’s eyes,” and encouraged Jon to let his resentment fuel his drive to improve his lot in life. Recognizing the difficulties each had faced, they respected each other, and although Tyrion had at least ten more namedays than Jon, they behaved as equals. However, Tyrion’s wicked sense of humor could not help but tease Jon about Ygritte, commenting on her admired ‘kissed by fire’ bright red hair. “I’ll wager she is fiery in bed!” Tyrion japed, and serious Jon blushed but refused to discuss his relationship with the wilding spearwife. Upon speaking with the forthright young woman, Tyrion was entertained by Ygritte’s explanation of how Jon had stolen her, and in the eyes of her wilding companions, they were a married couple.

Tyrion was amused that both Sam and Jon declined his invitation to go to Moletown for drinking and whoring, his favorite hobbies. Samwell was actually embarrassed by the suggestion and blushed like a maiden. Jon frowned and said that it would not be proper. _I like these men,_ Tyrion pondered, _they are intelligent and worthy of my companionship, but they have no sense of fun! Oh well, they still represent my best chance for friendship at the Wall._

When it became apparent that the White Walkers were becoming an immediate threat to the Night’s Watch, Tyrion discussed his research with the Lord Commander, and Jon Snow asked, “Why are the White Walkers vulnerable to dragonglass?” 

Tyrion replied “It is written that the children of the forest conjured them up to combat the invading First Men. Since the children used dragonglass arrowheads and knives, they made that vulnerability the Walkers’ weakness in case they turned on their makers, which they eventually did. Dragonglass has some type of strange magic.”

The Lord Commander pondered this and realized that because Valerian steel was rare; equipping an army with dragonglass swords would be the best option. Since the Night’s Watch’s experienced armorer, Donal Noye, had died fighting the wildings, he suggested that Tyrion ride to Winterfell to consult with Mikken, the master smith at that castle’s well-equipped forge. A raven preceded his visit, and when he arrived Lord Ned received him as a welcome ally in the battle yet to come. 

Lord Stark introduced Tyrion to Mikken and the dwarf could not help but notice the tall young apprentice smith working steel at the anvil. When Gendry turned around to greet the newcomer, Tyrion was startled to observe his long raven hair and bright blue eyes. The young man’s similarity to the deceased King Robert Baratheon was uncanny. He felt compelled to ask the youth about his parentage and Gendry admitted with lowered eyes that he had learned that he was Robert’s bastard son. The proud young man scowled and added, “I may be similar in appearance to the dead King, but I assure you that I am _nothing_ like him! I do not drink nor whore.”

Tyrion nodded with approval but smirked, “Ah, but then you are probably boring company compared to your father,” and Gendry simply frowned. 

After speaking with Mikken and Gendry, Tyrion met the rest of the Stark family at the evening meal. He thanked Lady Catelyn for her hospitality, especially since he was a Lannister and had felt uncertain how he would be received. He had first met Sansa Stark when she had ten and two namedays, and he was now struck that she had matured into one the most beautiful maidens he had ever met. More importantly, after sharing only a few words with Bran Stark and Jojen Reed, he realized that the two youths were focused on the same research topics as he was studying, and they immediately made plans to pool their efforts. Tyrion was pleased to meet the young scholars, but was horrified to learn that the Night King actually haunted their dreams. _I keep finding evidence that magic exists,_ the skeptical young man mused.

Eventually the awkward subject arose of his family members’ deaths during the battle for King’s Landing, and the fact that Arya Stark, now Queen Arya Targaryen, had killed his sister. Tyrion tried to defuse the situation and said, “Although I should feel sorrow for the loss of my closest relatives, my sister Cersei and my father despised me and never exhibited anything but hate and contempt for me. However, I regret how their lives ended, especially my brother Jaime, who always treated me with kindness.”

Lord Stark nodded gravely, “My friend Robert did have some serious faults, but Queen Cersei and Lord Tywin treated him poorly and even arranged his unfortunate passing. I am not cruel enough to celebrate killing, but I do not mourn their deaths.”

Tyrion fiddled uncomfortably with his empty goblet and appeared as if he really needed another drink. He muttered in a voice that only Lord and Lady Stark could hear, “I accept that my family was not good for the realm and I intend to make up for their behavior by contributing whatever I can to saving Westeros from the horrible enemy north of the Wall.”

Later during the meal, when everyone was more relaxed, Tyrion asked, “Lord Stark, I am curious about your absent younger daughter, Arya, who I was surprised to learn is King Aegon’s bride. I remember meeting her during my first visit to Winterfell, four long years ago, and I recall a mud-covered tomboy, always in trouble and the bane of her Lady Mother, but skilled with horses and the bow, and accompanied by a fierce direwolf. She certainly did not seem to be princess material at the time and I am curious how a proper young prince would be attracted to her. It must be an interesting story.” 

Lord Stark and the rest of the family all smiled at his words and Lord Ned replied, “Aye, it _is_ a most interesting story and we will amuse you with the details someday, but I can assure you that although she matured in some ways, her spirit is the same, and young Aegon was smitten with her personality almost immediately.” 

Lady Sansa added with a dreamy expression, “Arya and the prince become devoted friends first, and their friendship developed into a wonderful romance. They married for love and not politics or greed.” She sighed and continued, “They are best friends as well as husband and wife.” 

Tyrion was intrigued by her words as he believed true romance was only found in fictional stories. “I look forward to meeting this blissful couple. I imagine they ride unicorns too.”

Robb grinned and his words shocked Tyrion, “Actually, they ride a dragon and mayhaps you will have the opportunity to see them flying on Rhaegal.” 

As Tyrion considered this amazing concept, Lord Stark gave him something else to ponder, “My lord, I know you are a student of history and I feel that you should be aware that many people who knew Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen insist that young Arya and Aegon are their twins. I admit that the resemblance is uncanny.”

The thoughtful young Lannister’s eyes widened and he replied, “It seems that history is repeating itself. Much has occurred in the south since my absence and there is so much for me to learn.” But then Tyrion had a disquieting memory. While at dinner during his first visit to Winterfell, he had uneasily observed King Robert staring at the young Stark girl with an inappropriate expression on his drunken face. Now he realized that the King had seen the resemblance the child shared with her aunt Lyanna, Robert’s first and professed only love. “The gods work in mysterious ways,” he muttered under his breath and took a deep draught of wine.

____________________________ 

Winterfell

Tyrion spoke at length with Bran and Jojen, and when they had reached agreement on the most practical methods for combatting the White Walkers and their minions, they approached Mikken and Gendry in the smithy. Ned and Robb Stark were also present as Tyrion spoke in detail about their knowledge of the Enemy and concluded, “Our soldiers would be most effective with dragonglass swords and flaming torches.”

Mikken mulled over his words and responded, “I have mainly worked with iron, steel, and sometimes bronze, but young Gendry here was trained by Tobho Mott, the best smith in King’s Landing, and has more experience with other metals and alloys. He has even designed and fabricated jewelry.” He motioned for Gendry to take over the discussion and the others looked to him with encouragement. 

The shy young smith appeared uncomfortable and replied, “I am honored with your praise, Master, but I do not know very much about working with dragonglass. I will need some time to study this subject.” They all agreed to meet in the forge after the midday meal on the following day.

Gendry was a clever lad, and under Maester Luwin’s expert instruction _and_ with Lady Sansa’s encouragement, his skill with letters had improved remarkably since his arrival at Winterfell. The library no longer intimidated him and he was pleased to find the references he needed to increase his knowledge of metalworking and learn about the secrets of dragonglass also.

When they had reassembled the next day, Gendry addressed the group. He spoke confidently, “Despite its frightening name, dragonglass is merely a rock called obsidian, or volcanic glass. It is a brittle material and shatters easily. However, it melts at a lower temperature than many metals, but requires a higher temperature than window glass. Once heated, dragonglass is easy to work, but it is not an ideal material for forging a sword.”

As Ned, Robb, Tyrion, Mikken, Jojen, and Bran passed around and inspected specimens of the rock, Gendry demonstrated his point by taking a rod of molded dragonglass and easily broke it by striking the anvil. The young smith continued, “It would be a waste of resources to create dragonglass swords. I suggest that we simply fuse obsidian to old steel swords and other bladed weapons.” He showed them a chipped and worn out sword that had been coated in obsidian. It was smooth, shiny, and black. After they had inspected the sword, he tapped it against the anvil and cracks appeared immediately in the glass coating. “Unfortunately, it is still brittle,” he explained and the others looked dismayed. 

However, Gendry smiled and continued, “I think I may have solved that problem, though. Here is a sword that has been coated in dragonglass and then annealed.”

Tyrion looked at the young smith with intense curiosity. No one present had heard that word before, not even Mikken, the master smith.

“I found a book from Old Volantis that discussed techniques for working ordinary glass and obsidian,” Gendry explained, “the Masters of old recommended a process they called ‘annealing’ in which a previously-formed dragonglass item was submitted to a very high heat and then allowed to cool slowly. The result was a sturdy object that was no longer brittle.” 

He brought forth another sword that looked similar to the first one. “Here, I’ll show you.” Gendry tapped it against the anvil and no cracks appeared. He tapped harder and still no cracks appeared. Finally, he smashed the sword with much force against the anvil and some of the glass coating chipped off. Wiping his brow from his exertion and the heat of the smithy, he turned to the witnesses and said, “I believe that White Walkers are composed of softer materials than my anvil and it is known that they melt away on contact with dragonglass daggers. This weapon will be effective against the Enemy.”

The sword was passed around and the men muttered comments to each other. Lord Stark and Tyrion looked at Gendry with respect and admiration, and Tyrion said, “Gendry, I comment your ingenuity. This is a brilliant discovery!” Mikken smiled at him and Jojen and Bran appeared relieved as they no longer felt helpless before the Winter King. The shy smith reddened from their praise and thought, _Lady Sansa will be so proud of me! I wish I could tell Arya too!_ Another idea came to him and he smiled to himself, _Lady Stark cannot help but approve of me now!_

Remembering his previous train of thought, Gendry added, “I can even make obsidian arrowheads and they will not require the additional annealing process.”

Lord Stark and Tyrion looked at each other thoughtfully and Ned asked, “So what now?”

Tyrion suggested, “We must gather as many discarded blades as possible from the armory. Word should be sent to all your bannermen and Lord Snow at the Wall. Blacksmiths and farriers from all over the North should be invited to travel to Winterfell and Gendry will teach them how to work with obsidian, and then send them home to work at their personal forges.” 

Ned countered, “I will also send ravens to Dragonstone and ask Lord Stannis to have his men mine the dragonglass from underneath the mountainous island and send it north by ship. It will first be brought to Winterfell, and as smiths are trained, each will return to their own forge with a supply of obsidian. Soldiers will collect finished weapons and transport them to Winterfell, where the Army of the Living will assemble and prepare to defend the North against the White Walkers.”

Lord Stark looked at Tyrion and added, “We must also inform the King and Queen in King’s Landing. Their armies will be needed to confront this threat.” Then he turned to his ward with a huge smile, “Gendry, you have given us hope!”

____________________________

In the dining hall later that evening and after a pleasant meal, Tyrion took his goblet of wine, plopped down his pillow into a chair next to the young smith, and queried, “Gendry, Master Mikken stated that you also craft jewelry as well as weapons. I would not expect a lad from Flea Bottom to know about such luxuries.”

“I have some skill with drawing,” Gendry replied, “and when my Master noticed that, he showed me how to cast my art into solid form.” He made eye contact with Sansa and motioned for her to join them. The maiden showed Tyrion her direwolf brooch, which she always proudly wore on her gown. 

Tyrion commented on the realistic ornament, “Well done! You have an eye for detail.”

Gendry replied, “I have done others,” and went to his chamber, returning with his designs for King Aegon’s cloak clasp and Arya’s running wolf brooch. 

Tyrion admired the drawings and said, “You are certainly a talented young man,” but his irrepressible wit took over and he japed, “It appears as though you desire the favors of _both_ Stark maidens, heh, Gendry? You must have interesting dreams, lad.” 

The unsophisticated young man instantly blushed, betraying his true feelings and proving Tyrion’s hypothesis. Gendry stammered that he valued their friendship but the clever dwarf was not fooled. He smirked, “Aye, I wager you would also value their friendship in your bedchamber. Tell me, do you fantasize having both of them in your bed at the same time? That would be interesting!”

Now, Gendry turned an even brighter shade of red and droplets of sweat appeared on his forehead. “It is not like that!” he muttered, clearly very embarrassed.

The amused Imp laughed, “Don’t be such a green boy, Gendry! Bedding two pretty maidens in one evening is a wonderful experience, I assure you!”

But serious Gendry would never admit to Tyrion that he _did_ dream of both Stark girls and those thoughts troubled him. He shook his head and replied, “I am weary. It has been an exhausting day. Good morrow to you!” and took his leave, nodding to the others at the table.

Tyrion called after him, “Pleasant dreams!” and his companions laughed, but Gendry did not turn around. The dwarf chuckled as he reflected on the simple lad’s discomfiture, but an uneasy thought developed in his mind. _The last generation had its difficulties from a Targaryen and a Baratheons lusting after a Stark woman, I hope that particular plot does not repeat itself!_ The idea made him anxious, but he dismissed it as farfetched. Tyrion sighed and considered, _we have more pressing problems facing us on which to dwell._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The War in the North


	71. The War in the North I

The Honored Guest Chapter 71 The War in the North I

____________________________

Previously:

Lord Stark and Tyrion looked at each other thoughtfully and Ned asked, “So what now?”

Tyrion suggested, “We must gather as many discarded blades as possible from the armory. Word should be sent to all your bannermen and Lord Snow at the Wall. Blacksmiths and farriers from all over the North should be invited to travel to Winterfell and Gendry will teach them how to work with obsidian, and then send them home to work at their personal forges.” 

Ned countered, “I will also send ravens to Dragonstone and ask Lord Stannis to have his men mine the dragonglass from underneath the mountainous island and send it north by ship. It will first be brought to Winterfell, and as smiths are trained, each will return to their own forge with a supply of obsidian. Soldiers will collect finished weapons and transport them to Winterfell, where the Army of the Living will assemble and prepare to defend the North against the White Walkers.”

Lord Stark looked at Tyrion and added, “We must also inform the King and Queen in King’s Landing. Their armies will be needed to confront this threat.” Then he turned to his ward with a huge smile, “Gendry, you have given us hope!”

____________________________

The War in the North I

While Lord Stark, Tyrion, and Maester Luwin were busy sending ravens to the castles of the North, the Night’s Watch, Dragonstone, and King’s Landing, Gendry and Mikken began to work feverishly in the forge. Ned approached Winterfell’s master-at-arms, Ser Rodrik Cassel, and together they went to the armory, which had several storage rooms filled with worn out weapons. Servants and guardsmen were set to work retrieving and cleaning dusty old swords, knocking the rust off the worst of them, and then conveying them to the smithy. Soon the same procedure was being carried out in the castles of Lord Stark’s bannermen. Within a week blacksmiths and farriers arrived in Winterfell, prepared to learn how to fashion the required weapons that would be necessary to combat the Night King’s minions.

The North was girding for war and even Adrian, Artos, and Lyanna joined in the toil at the smithy. Rickon insisted that he wanted to help also and was set to work delivering water to the forge. The youths curiously inspected the unusual weapons and asked questions. Gendry told them, “These swords are not for sparring and they don’t even need to be sharp, as dragonglass easily penetrates White Walkers’ flesh. It is actually a magical weapon.” Their eyes widened in surprise. 

Tyrion added, “The steward Samwell Tarly told me that during the tragic ‘Great Ranging’ venture of the Night’s Watch, he stabbed a White Walker with a dragonglass dagger and saw it harmlessly melt away into vapor.” 

Gendry and Mikken also found time to fabricate obsidian daggers. As they worked, Mikken japed, “We could certainly use ‘Arya underfoot’ to assist us.” Lady Sansa Stark surprised the smiths by arriving in a kitchen scullion’s dress and proceeded to haul water, fetch tools, and she occasionally stopped to wipe Gendry’s sweaty brow, oblivious to the amount of dirt on her face, hands, and clothing. 

Lady Catelyn heard of this and was properly horrified, scolding her at the midday meal, “Daughter, that is unladylike behavior!” 

Sansa countered, “But Arya would not hesitate to help out if she was here, and we all need to contribute if we want to survive!” Ned overheard her and smiled proudly at his daughter’s words.

Lady Stark nodded but looked sternly at her daughter, “All right, but _no_ kissing in the forge!” 

Sansa blushed prettily and protested, “Mother, there will be other people present! _Of course_ there will no kissing!”

Her lady mother frowned, “I worry that you may be following in your sister’s footsteps when it comes to this handsome smith. I overheard my handmaidens who had accompanied us to King’s Landing whispering that the young queen would like _three_ husbands, and I suspect that Gendry may be involved in their scandalous gossip.”

Sansa blushed again but firmly replied, “Gendry loves _me_ , Mother, and he does not take Arya seriously.”

Lady Catelyn continued, “Still, I would be careful. You have admitted that they kissed in the past. We have seen that your sister can be very determined when she wants something,” and she added with a troubled expression, “From the moment she was born and screamed her way into your father’s heart, Arya has had an uncanny talent for securing the attention of males. Your lord father, your brothers Robb and Jon, and even Theon spoiled her endlessly and protected her from my efforts to impose proper ladylike behavior on her. Mikken in the forge and Harwin in the stable also doted on her. When we arrived at the capital for the coronation I was not surprised to learn that she had captured the hearts of the prince and the young lord of Starfall. Be wary of your sister. She may not look nor behave like your friend Margaery Tyrell, but she is just as dangerous when it comes to men.”

Now Sansa displayed a worried countenance. She recalled how Gendry, during a very emotional moment, had kissed her and her sister, confessing that he loved _both_ of them, and Arya had not seemed surprised at all. _I must have a serious talk with my man,_ she thought, _I want to know the truth about his feelings for my sister! Why is she always so much trouble?!_

Gendry and Mikken were also making obsidian arrowheads, having learned that they were also effective weapons. Theon took the responsibility of inspecting the products and directing Meera, Jojen, Bran, and some servants in the construction and fletching of arrow shafts, and even preparing flaming arrows. It seemed that everyone in Winterfell castle was on a war footing. 

____________________________

At Dragonstone in the mouth of Blackwater Bay, Lord Stannis Baratheon received a raven of warning and a request for aid. Lord Stannis had been aware of the threat for some time, as his spiritual advisor, Lady Melisandre of Asshai, the priestess of the Lord of Light, warned him for years that the true danger to Westeros was in the North. He ordered his men to start mining obsidian and shipping it to White Harbor where Northerners were waiting to transport the loads of rock to Winterfell. Lord Stannis was also preparing his troops for the journey to the north.

____________________________

Ravens arrived in King’s Landing and the small council hastily made plans. Lord Jon, Queen Daenerys, and King Aegon assessed their combined troop strength, and urged the lords of the Crownlands and Riverlands to answer the call to arms. Homeless Harry organized Golden Company for the march. The extensive armory in the Red Keep was raided for old swords as Lord Stark had requested which were packaged and loaded on ships going north. Arya was pleased that room on a northbound ship was provided for her personal battery of war machines and her artillerymen, ‘Bloody Bessie’s Boys’.

Sarra Martell, in her role as assistant Hand, tallied and organized the supplies needed for the armies and arranged transportation. Hers was a tremendous responsibility, and Gorys Edoryen, the interim master of coin, Ned Dayne, and Arya helped her. All four were familiar with the practice of accounting. 

Queen Daenerys drilled her forces in King’s Landing and prepared her Dothraki fighters and the Unsullied army to march. Lord Stannis Baratheon and Paxter Redwyne, Lord of the Arbor, provided ships to carry weapons and supplies to ports in the North. The bannerman of the Tyrells of the Reach were also recruited for the war. Lord Renly Baratheon assembled the loyal lords of the Stormlands to join in also. Asha Greyjoy of the Iron Islands also promised ships, and more importantly, persuaded her lord father, Balon Greyjoy, to agree to support the men of the Night’s Watch at the Shadow Tower if it were threatened. Lord Balon had not wanted to assist the Targaryen regime until he learned that even Pike was vulnerable to White Walkers, who had shown that they could travel under water. 

____________________________

Before Golden Company and the Targaryen court were going to depart for the North, Lord Jon realized that Arya should be informed of the truth about Jon Snow. Aegon, Ashara, and Daenerys were also present when she arrived at the office of the Hand and they all looked uncomfortable. With a worried expression, Arya ventured, “I feel that I am about to receive bad news. Has someone died?” 

Aegon replied first, “Not really, my love, we are just not sure how you will take the information you are about to hear.” The young king put his hand on Needle’s pommel; as the sword was in its usual place at her side, and said, “You have always thought your brother gave you this sword, but it was actually a gift from your cousin.” 

Startled, Arya demanded, “What are you talking about?” 

“Jon _Snow_ is actually Jon _Targaryen_. His parents were Prince Rhaegar and Lyanna Stark. He is my half-brother and your cousin,” Aegon continued. 

Arya appeared relieved by his words, but also a bit embarrassed. “Um, I actually knew that already. When I met Ned Dayne on the Boneway he told me that Jon had been his milk brother in Dorne and explained how he got there.”

Lady Ashara interjected, “I should have suspected that. All the highborns at Starfall knew about Jon.”

Lord Jon asked curiously, “And you did not speak of this to anyone?”

The young queen bit her lip, “I was disconsolate and spoke to Lady Nym afterwards. She told me that only the Daynes and Martells knew in Dorne and agreed to keep his identity a secret to help protect his life. She begged me not to speak of it to anyone else. But tell me, does Jon know this? He always hated being a bastard.” 

Lord Jon said, “Not yet. Your lord father will tell him soon. We here have also kept this fact a secret. Lannister henchmen at the Wall would have killed him if his identity had been revealed too soon. By the way, your grace, Jon is _not_ a bastard. Rhaegar and Lyanna were secretly married. The High Septon gave them tacit approval to wed as several previous Targaryen kings had been allowed to have two wives.” 

Queen Daenerys smiled, “I cannot wait to meet my other nephew and you will surely have an agreeable reunion with Jon.”

Arya sniffed and wiped her eyes, “Aye, I miss him terribly and have so much to tell him.” But then she composed herself and sat up straight in her chair, “But we have more serious matters to consider beside pleasant meetings with long-lost kinfolk. I hope we can move out soon.”

Lord Jon nodded sagely, “We are almost ready to join the Northern forces and confront what appears to be a dreadful enemy.” He concluded grimly, “I fear that we will not all survive the coming conflict.” 

As they left the chamber, Arya turned to Aegon and Ashara and said, “I was very upset when Ned told me that Jon was not really my brother, but he was very sweet and considerate and consoled me.”

Lady Ashara looked puzzled for a minute, but Aegon furrowed his brow and scowled, “I wager he _consoled_ you very well!”

Arya’s eyes glittered with mischief and she smiled sweetly, “Aye, he was _very_ attentive.”

Aegon snorted and walked faster while Ashara’s face now bore a look of disapproval.

Lord Jon shook his head and muttered, “Sand Snakes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next: The White Walkers attack and the war begins.


End file.
